My Lapse In Judgment
by truly unruly
Summary: At thirty-two years old, Elliot Reid decides that it's time to grow up. But maybe having a baby with her boss is not the best way to start...AU, ElliotCox. Complete.
1. My Pregnancy Test

**I'm probably breaking a million trillion "Scrubs" taboos with this particular plot-bunny, but as of now, I don't care. :) This was inspired by "One Thing Led to Another" by Katy Regan, and I decided I could sort of see it fitting Elliot and Dr. Cox, soooo…um, sorry?**

**Also, this is AU – basically, that just means Perry and Jordan never had children, or got together. I haven't seen Season 8 yet (what with being English and living in Sweden xP) so this only goes up to Season 7.**

**And finally, if I get any characters OOC, I apologize. This is my first "Scrubs" fic, so I'm still figuring out their voices. And now, with no further ado, enjoy!**

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My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Pregnancy Test_

Two minutes, the package said.

Two minutes and then _bam!_ Your whole life completely changed forever. Nothing _ever _the same again. Just imagine what that feels like! …oh, frick, on second thoughts, _don't_. It's too weird to even picture. Well, imagine how _I _feel, and I'm the one going through it!

Okay. Calm down, Elliot. I take a deep breath, before setting the test on the coaster on my dresser (_must remind self to wash that coaster later_) and then staring at the clock, counting down the minutes.

_2:00_

God, this is taking a while, huh?

_1:45_

It was _once! _Just one little mistake I made! Surely, it wasn't enough to actually get pregnant?

Right?

Leave it to none other than _Dr. _fricking_ Cox _to completely screw up my life.

_1:36_

I can almost hear him now. "_Well, Barbaroo, looks like you've got yourself in a pickle now, haven't cha?_"

_1:30_

I hate that man. Well, I guess I don't, if that night we spent together shows us anything. And as more images of that night pop up, I'm beginning to think we were just _begging _to get pregnant.

I mean, _hello_? In the back seat of his fricking Porsche, my legs around his waist, totally hammered out of our skulls? Isn't that how all the stupid high school kids get pregnant?

_1:15_

Then again, we aren't stupid high school kids. We're both doctors, over the age of thirty, who have each had our fair share of experiences.

…_frick-on-a-stick, how can I still be frickin' STUPID enough to let this happen?_

_1:10_

Oh no. I'm becoming my mother.

_1:00_

You know what? I blame Carla.

_0:55_

Oh God, Carla. And Turk and JD…how the hell do I tell them?!

Okay, calm down. I'm probably not even pregnant. It's just an overreaction. This test _has_ to be negative. I mean, I'm sure there's a logical explanation to the morning sickness…and back pains…and lack of "monthly visitor"…and my emotional state…

On second thought, no harm comes with a little praying, right?

_0:50_

Please, God, please don't let me be pregnant with my boss's bastard. I don't have a boyfriend, since I dumped Keith. Surely, you don't want me to be an unmarried mother, right?

_0:40_

Wait. Since this may be _the _Dr. Cox's child, should I be praying to the Devil? What with Dr. Cox being _pure evil _and all…

Well, at least it isn't Dr. Kelso's.

_IT WAS JUST A FRICKING DREAM_.

…and he was _half-dolphin_.

_0:32_

Frick, this is taking forever. I tap my fingers against the surface and glance at the test. The beginnings of lines are just appearing in the window, but they aren't distinct yet.

_0:20_

You know, I always assumed I wouldn't get pregnant until I was married. Or at least in a stable relationship. I wanted to be as _unlike _my mother as possible. Yet now, I wonder if maybe I've been transforming into her all along. For instance, breaking Keith's heart and then having sex with him and then breaking his heart again was a kind of selfish move…something my mom probably would've done. And now I may be having my boss's…my _teacher's_…baby. Oh my God…so maybe, I'm being stupid in trying to lay blame on Dr. Cox or Carla or even Kelso. Maybe, it's more _my _fault than –

_Gaaaah! _Ten seconds to go!

_0:07_

I pick up the test and stare resolutely at the window.

_0:05_

Still staring.

_0:01_

Still nothing.

_0:00_

Okay, either this is a crappy test, or I can't see properly.

Irritably, I stand and walk to the window – I mean my glass in-my-wall window. The sun is shining brightly, so I hold the white stick up so it shines directly through the test window.

Ooh.

A little blue cross.

…

_Frick_.

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**You know the drill.**

**Please drop a review! Constructive-criticism will be accepted and taken to heart. Flames will drive me closer to a nervous breakdown.**

…**just kidding. –**_**shifty eyes—**_

**Review?**


	2. My Flashback

**Squuuuuee!! I seriously can't believe the response this story has got! I even have readers who aren't "Elliox" fans!!! xD Of course, that just makes me even more nervous about the rest of the story now. Uh-oh…**

**Thanks also to everyone who said I have Elliot's voice down! This chapter does contain Dr. Cox, so he'll probably be OOC, but hopefully everyone else will be alright!**

**Finally, the flashback takes place about a month after the Season 7 finale, so the last chapter took place four months after. Okay, great. Bear in mind that this chapter doesn't start off happy, but will get happier. –pinkie swears--**

**So, once again, with no further ado…**

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My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Flashback_

I suppose, if you want to _technical_, this whole situation started seven years ago. I was twenty-five, an intern at Sacred Heart hospital. I was naïve and scared and, yet, excited. It was a whole new chapter for me. It's _also _where I met JD, Turk, Carla and, last but not least, Dr. Percival Cox.

Yes. Percival Cox. No lie.

But, of course, you _don't _want to be technical. It's not about how we met; it's about how we ended up in _this _frickin' situation.

So, really, it started three months ago…

"Elliot, what's wrong?"

Carla was standing in front of me, a chart clasped to her chest and concerned brown eyes watching me. I was more-or-less slumped on the nurse's station, miserable.

"_Elliot_."

"Keith and I had another fight," I pouted.

"What?" she cried, "Elliot, it's been _two months!_"

"Don't you think I know that?" I shot back, "He just won't get over it, Carla!"

"Well, I can see why," she reasoned, shrugging, "I mean, remember when you and JD broke up, and it took you _so _long to move on because you always had to see him?"

I scowled, "_Carla! _Aren't you meant to be _siding with me?!_"

"I'm not siding with anyone!" Carla snapped defensively, before deflating slightly, "Just try and see things from _Keith's _point of view."

I was just about to reply, yell or cry (I wasn't sure), when a rapid beeping started up in my pocket. I scooped out my pager and stared at it.

"What now?" I sighed, exhausted after a _long _day. I flipped open the screen and read the message.

"Mrs. Hillsdale's coding!" I almost shrieked, causing Carla to drop her chart. You see, Mrs. Maisie Hillsdale was one of my patients admitted a few days before, complaining about breathlessness and abdominal swelling. It turned out it was bowel cancer, severe enough that we needed to hospitalize her further and start chemotherapy straight away. But she was still a cheery, bright woman, only in her late fifties; how was it possible that she was dying already?

Only ten minutes later, I was standing over Mrs. Hillsdale, watching a nurse begin removing the breathing mask and switching off the monitors.

"Call it."

I couldn't help but wonder if I'd let Mrs. Hillsdale down somehow. I was so caught up in the problems with my own life that I was too distracted to care properly for her. She was supposed to get _better_.

"Barbie, _call it_."

I glanced up at Dr. Cox, defeated, before calling in monotone, "Time of death, 5:43."

Then I stalked out of the room, trying my best to regain my composure.

"Hey."

I glanced up and saw JD leaning on the wall. I was relieved to see a familiar, friendly (albeit goofy) face.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, sounding genuine, "I really am."

"Thanks, JD," I sighed, shrugging, "It's just…today's been so…"

I made some unnecessary hand gestures, unable to convey what I mean to him.

"So…_bleah_."

Bleah? Was that the fricking best I could come up with? _Jeez_.

Luckily, he understood my meaning anyway.

"Oh, yeah, I know. I get them all the time," he assured me, grinning in that totally JD-way of his. I felt a pang of guilt, as I remember he had not only similar crap to me, but on top of that a baby son.

"Don't you have to get Sam from Kim tonight?" I asked. He started and checked his watch.

"Oh, _shoot!_ I've got to go!" he cried, before looking concernedly at me, "Do you…do you want to come?"

"What? Oh, _no_, I'm…I'm fine," I lied, "I have to talk to Mrs. Hillsdale's family, anyway."

He nodded and then, after awkwardly hugging me, ran down towards the elevator, muttering about how Kim will kill him if he's late again. I just stared after him, until the elevator _pinged! _and carried him away, before remembering that I _did _need to use to elevator, to talk to Mrs. Hillsdale's son and daughter, who have barely left the hospital since their mother's admission.

* * *

As heartless as it sounds, the next part isn't important. I know, to Mrs. Hillsdale's children, it was a life-changing moment; but it doesn't affect me or this story. The only reason I'm looking back on that day is to find out _where _I went wrong, and how I ended up…you know…_pregnant_.

So, I guess, the next important part was just after talking to them.

And I was crying in a closet.

… Again.

* * *

I hadn't cried in a storage closet for _months_, and yet it felt like greeting an old friend. The darkness was comforting as I sniffled and wiped my face again. It was stupid, a woman my age, a _doctor_, still ending up in tears after a tough day.

Just as I was about to leave (find a bathroom and make sure I removed _all _evidence of crying), the door I had supposedly locked swung open, revealing none other than Dr. Cox, his eyebrows immediately springing up.

"Well, well, Barbie, after seven years, you still hide in closets? I can't say I'm _that _surprised."

Normally I would've made some remark, clever or…er, otherwise, but at the time, all I could think was, _Frick, frick, frick, frickedy-FRICK!_

"Barbie?" he repeated, sounding a lot softer, "Are you…_crying?_"

"No!" I blurted out, before sniffing again and conceding, "Yes…"

He sighed, almost as if he would regret asking, "…_why_ are you crying?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, "B-because today's been…s-so…"

"Oh, damn it, Barbie," he abruptly growled, shutting the door behind him and then reaching up to switch on the light bulb, "Why do you insist on sitting in the _dark_, exactly?"

I didn't reply; I was far too busy with my deer-caught-in-headlights look.

"Now, listen, Barbie, because you're _only _gonna hear this once: people die," he told me, "You should know that. People die every day, whether it's their time or…or _whatever_, but the point is, you're gonna get _nowhere _as a doctor if you don't accept that. People have died in your care _before_, and you can't let every time knock you on your ass, okay?"

How can I not, when I know I could've saved Mrs. Hillsdale? I think I'll ask him that.

"How can I – ?"

"It was just her time, Barbie," Dr. Cox interrupted – dare I say – _gently_, "You saw how bad her cancer was. It wasn't your fault."

I couldn't help smiling then. I don't know why I asked what I did next – impulsiveness, maybe? – but I opened my mouth, and said –

"Dr. Cox, would you go out for a drink with me?"

Oh, FRICK!!!!

_That's _where I went wrong! I – a vulnerable, tearful blonde – asked Dr. Cox – a borderline alcoholic, hard-on-outside-soft-on-inside maniac – out for alcohol. And he, being unable to say no to a girl with tears in her eyes due to not being totally heartless, said yes!

"Sure. What the hell," he replied, "Meet you out front?"

"Okay,"

I didn't know it, but in three months time I would be hitting my head on the wall at this.

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**I think you can guess what happens next. ;)**

**I know this was a **_**weird **_**place to end, and I know it was probably a crappy chapter and everyone was OOC, but I sort of ran out of steam. . Sorry! Hopefully the next one will be a lot better; we'll actually get to the present-day hospital!**

**So, anyway, please read and review!**


	3. My Stages Of Grief

**My muse for my other stories has apparently taken a holiday – xP – so I've decided to update this one again! :D Thanks again for the lovely reviews – keep 'em coming!**

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My Lapse In Judgments  
_My Stages Of Grief_

_It's past midnight when we stumble out of the bar, laughing hysterically at something that wasn't that funny to begin with. The only lights guiding my way are the dim orange street lights, as I unsteadily stagger towards him, trying to slow my mad giggling._

_I am effectively silenced, however, when his mouth once again slams against mine. I respond eagerly, my hands exploring his muscled upper-arms while his are entangled in my hair. I'm blaming my actions on the beer as my hands move of their own accord to his jeans, fumbling with the belt buckle._

"_Wait – _wait_," he pants, breaking away and stopping me. I look up at him dejectedly, hoping my eyes are big and blue enough to change his mind. Of course, his mind's already been made up … apparently by the insistence of _another _body part._

"_We should get in the car first," he whispers, as though he were telling me a terrible secret. His breath is hot on my face, smelling of whiskey and something else unique. I unconsciously lean towards him, and he leans back, a smile pulling at his lips._

"_Barbie," he sing-songs, "The car, pretty-please?"_

"_Oh, right…" I mumble, eyes firmly locked on his lips now. Even drunk, I know that I'm acting like a dog in heat or something, but that method was working pretty effectively. _

_He practically pulls me to his Porsche, before producing his keys from his pocket, cursing when he misses the key hole. I laugh drunkenly, and he glares at me as he finally jerks the back door open._

"_In," he growls. Acting like the afore-mentioned dog (so humiliating!), I obey and jump in. The back seat is by no means spacious – actually, between the two of us, it was cramped, but I don't care, as long as we both get in. He slams the doors behind him and then crawls forward, above me as he leans down and kisses me again. All self-control flies out the window as I wrap my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as he moans._

_I woke up with a hangover and a terrible neck cramp the next morning._

_My first thought was 'Worth it'._

They say there are five stages to grief.

It was proved by a Swiss psychiatrist in the sixties that, to deal with grief, a person allegedly go through five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and, finally, acceptance. These happen whenever a tragedy or loss occurs in someone's life.

Of course, that _usually _applies to someone who's lost their mother, or has a terminal illness.

_Not _someone who's just discovered they're pregnant.

And yet, I've already had three of the stages, and that was just while I awaited my test results!

I told myself it was one stupid mistake which _couldn't _have been enough to get someone pregnant – _denial_.

I began blaming random people (not least Carla and Dr. Kelso) – _anger_.

And then I began praying to God, as if that could undo a baby -- …what was the third one? Oh, yes, _bargaining_.

Now that I know I'm definitely pregnant, I'm certain that depression is setting in; because I went for a drive to clear my head, and I've had to pull over because I'm crying too much.

"_Stupid_, _stupid_, _stupid_…" I sob, thumping my head on the steering wheel in time to my 'stupid's. Then, I lean back and take a few deep breaths.

Calm down, Elliot. You need to calm down. Now think. You need to think about what to do, because whether you like it or not, this baby's coming. Just…frickin' _accept it!_

Another lump builds up in my throat and I choke back a sob.

Evidently, I'm not ready for acceptance yet.

I wipe my eyes, and then start driving aimlessly around again. As much as I hate to admit it, I try to put the…_you-know-what_ out of mind. I'm just not ready to face it yet.

I mean, what could I do? I'm clearly not ready to be a mother yet if I'm afraid to even think about it! But I've been yearning for a baby for so fricking long… besides, what other choices did I have?

There was adoption, I suppose. Yeah, that could work. The baby would go to a stable family, and I could wait until I was ready to have one to keep. But, if I _do _choose adoption, I would stay pregnant…and have to tell people, and have them hate me…and tell Dr. Cox – _ohhh God…_–and then I would see my baby's little face and know I couldn't keep it _because I would've practically sold it and it wouldn't be mine anymore_…!

Okay, adoption is _DEFINITELY _out!!!

I breathe again, squeezing my eyes shut to calm myself. A few honks and swerving cars remind me I'm driving, and I quickly open them.

Of course, there is always the A-word.

Not adoption again, obviously, but the _other _A-word.

Abortion.

Just the word makes me shiver a little, as I'm reminded that it's a direct contradiction of what I do. I work so hard to save lives every day, only to take one deliberately?

Plus, I'm _Republican!_

But, then again…if it were the best thing for me _and _the baby…

I shake my head and clear my mind, refusing to think about _that _anymore. Only then do I realize I've parked in the hospital parking lot.

"Frickedy-frick…" I whisper, but decide to get out anyway; I could use a distraction.

It's still very bright, and the lobby is full of chattering people, but I abruptly feel totally alone. I've got this huge, life-changing secret that nobody else knows. Nobody else knows that there is one more person in the room, hidden safely inside me…

"_Elliot! _Hi!"

JD bounds up and grins at me, "What are you doing here? I thought it was your day off!"

I blink, surprised, "Oh…oh, _yeah_. It, um, it is! I just thought…well, I was lonely, so I, ah…"

"Are you okay?" he asks, narrowing his round blue eyes at me, "You look like something's wrong…"

"_Nothing's wrong!_" I squeak, "Why?! Is something wrong with _you?!_"

His head suddenly tilts to the left, his eyes drifting away and I sigh, knowing I've sent him off into JD Land again. I rock on the balls of my feet, focusing on anything that distracts me from the _you-know-what_, as I wait for JD to resurface. Eventually he does, snapping out of it with a quiet murmur of "I'll never be James Bond…"

"_Right_," I grumble, "I'm just gonna…say hi to Carla!"

With that, I dash off to catch the elevator, which is almost empty. _Almost_.

"Oh, and _just when _I thought my day was gonna be peaceful and Barbie-free! Isn't it your day-off?"

Ah – the man of the hour. Dr. Cox frowns out me, while I freeze just inside the doorway, eyes wide.

Frick! How can I face this man, knowing that I'm going to change his life forever?! Depending on what I choose to do, of course…

But what the frick do I _say?_

"You know what, Barbie?" he interrupts my frantic thoughts, "I don't honestly care, so why don't you zip it and we can continue the blissful silence you just interrupted?"

I obediently press my lips together and don't say a word as I press my button and lean against the wall. I occasionally steal glances at him, wondering if his hawk-eyes have caught anything different about me.

Is it possible that I look different already? I mean, I must be at least three months gone – I could have a little bump already. I press my hand on my stomach and run it up and down, feeling for any roundness.

"Checking to see if you've started letting yourself go yet?"

My head shoots up to see Dr. Cox staring at me and I instinctually retort, "I thought we weren't talking."

He just shrugs and moves his attention to the chart in his hands. Only then do I take in his appearance; he's wearing his normal attire – trousers and a tight shirt that shows off his every muscle – I feel my face heating up as I peruse his pretty impressive torso, but that doesn't mean I stop. I suppose really, I could've picked _worse _people to reproduce with. Dr. Cox may be harsh, emotionally crippled and possibly insane, but he's still pretty good-looking.

_That's _when acceptance hits me.

I really am pregnant – I'm _going _to have this baby, and most importantly, I've completely screwed up this unsuspecting man's life. _I _was the one who asked him for drinks; _I _was the one who kissed _him_; now _I'm _the one carrying his bastard.

God, Dr. Cox, I'm sorry.

"Hmm?" Dr. Cox mumbles, looking up at me. I realize I said that last part aloud, and that my eyes are quickly filling up with tears again.

"I said I'm sorry," I whisper, just as the elevator _dings!_ and opens up on my floor. I hold his gaze for a moment (mine watery, his confused), before I swiftly stalk out of the elevator and down the hall.

"_Bar –_"

I hear him begin to call after me, before the doors shut again. I ignore Carla as I breeze past the nurses' station. I am totally determined to get to the one place I need to be.

A few moments later, I'm locked in my favourite closet, bawling my eyes out.

I'm sitting on the ground, with my knees pulled up to my chest. I've locked myself in this closet many times over the years, but this was the first time I was already of new life rather than death. My baby is roughly three-and-a-half inches long and it is the most terrifying thing I've ever encountered.

Unfortunately, fate doesn't seem to be on my side. Just as I'm reaching the worst part of crying – when the tears are unstoppable and you start hiccupping – the door swings open and I'm caught in the fetal position (ironic choice of words), mascara running and sobs erupting continuously.

Only this time, it's _not _Dr. Cox.

"Blonde Doctor? What are you doing here?"

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**The next chapter will probably be the hardest to write, since I'm going to epically fail on the Janitor's character. Dx **

**And sorry if Dr. Cox, Elliot or JD were OOC too. And sorry if the ending was too quick. It's one in the morning and I'm exhausted. :)**

**So I have 24 reviews for 2 chapters. Can we see if we can make it to 30? :) Please review! ****Constructive criticism is always welcome too!**


	4. My Hypothesis

**Again, sorry if the Janitor is, like, **_**waaaay **_**OOC. Other than that, please enjoy!**

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My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Hypothesis_

"Janitor!" I squeak, horrified as I stared at the giant in front of me, "W-what are you _doing here?!_"

The Janitor frowns at me, "This is a _supply _closet. I'm getting cleaning supplies."

I give him a 'you're-not-fooling-me' look and he shrugs, "Okay, so I was getting a can of honey."

_Honey? _I look behind me and see, lo and behold, a huge collection of tins of honey. I look back to see the Janitor grinning maliciously at me.

"We all know how much Scooter likes putting sticky stuff in his hair…" he chuckles darkly.

Oh. So it's for some terribly cruel trick against JD. Today, I can't even bring myself to care – life continues for everyone outside the store closet but for me, it's stalled for just a few minutes.

"So, what's wrong?" he asks, closing the door and dropping down beside me. It's pitch black, so I can't see his face, but I assume he isn't serious.

"You really want to know?" I sniff.

"Of course! I like helping people."

Hah!

"You know, I was almost a therapist."

_Hah!_

"I was gonna go to college and everything, but I was thrown out. I won't go into detail, but that little Irish lady will _never_ grow her hair back…"

…I don't even want to know.

"It's just…" I swallow and shake my head, "It's _stupid_."

"Hey!" he cries, and I feel his hand on my shoulder, "If it makes you cry, it's not stupid. It deserves pummeling."

Despite myself, I laugh. How could JD ever hate this man?

"Can we at least turn the lights on?" I ask him.

"Well…how do I test my ability to see in the dark?"

Classic Janitor! …at least, I hope he's kidding.

"At home, in a dark room?" I suggest, smiling. I hear him make a 'Hmm…' noise.

"Touché, Blonde Doctor. Better at home than here, where I'm getting _nagged _all the time. 'Clean that bathroom! Mop that floor! Don't steal that corpse's pants'!"

As he speaks, he stands and switches on the light bulb, so I have time to disguise my confused expression. I stand up and dust off my skirt, and then pause.

"Janitor?"

He turns to me, "Yup?"

I blink, and stammer, "I-if Lady came to you, and told you she was p…p-pregnant, what would you do?"

The Janitor frowned, "Pregnant? Why, what has she told you? _What do you know?!?!_"

"Nothing!" I shriek, "God! She's not pregnant!"

He visibly relaxes and breathes a sigh of relief.

Then, I shrug and point out, "Well, she hasn't _said _she is, but she could well –"

"_Waaarugh!_"

"Stop that! Frickedy-_frick_, it was hypothetical!"

"Well then, why are you asking?!"

I stop up short and twist my shirt hem in my hands, suddenly shy. He peers at me, and I can practically see realization dawn on him.

For a janitor, he is incredibly clever.

"Are you pregnant?" he asks. I open and close my mouth several times, like a fish, unsure of what to say. Deny it? Be honest?

"Well…t-that's one way of p-putting it…"

_Pfft_. Frickin' smooth, Elliot.

"Are you kidding? That's _great _news!" the Janitor exclaims, before he picks me up and hugs me. My feet dangle a few inches off the floor and I uncertainly hug him back, grateful that he's not _too _tight and potentially hurting the baby.

_The baby…_

Aaaand, my hormones kick off again and I'm sobbing into his jumpsuit that isn't actually a jumpsuit. _Great_. He plops me back down again and stares at me.

"What's wrong?" he asks again, "I thought you'd be happy."

"I am!" I lie, wiping my eyes, "It's just…not how I expected it to be."

"Well, who is the guy? Is it Scooter? Did he hurt you? Cos I'll take care of him, if you know what I –"

"_No!_" I cry, stopping him from torturing JD anymore than he already does, "It's _not _JD's."

He blinks at me, evidently thrown, "J…D…?"

"JD?" I repeat, confused, "You torture him all the time? Day dreams a lot? Scooter?"

"Oh, right."

I nod, before daring to ask, "How should I tell him?"

"Who, Scooter?"

"_No! _The father!"

He breathes out and looks me straight in the eye, "Well, to-the-point's probably the best. You get it down quicker and can decide what to do quicker. No point beating around the bush, right?"

I deflate slightly, knowing that he's right. The quicker I tell Dr. Cox, the quicker we can make a choice about the baby. _Our _baby.

"_Or_, you could get one of the sky writers to, you know, _write _it across the sky, in _huge _letters, spelling it out, like, _You're Having A Baby! _I do know a guy – he does it really cheap, especially to blondes. _Or _– "

"Thank you, Janitor," I interrupt before he gets me to tattoo it on my forehead, "But I think I'll just do the to-the-point thing."

The Janitor sighs and tuts, "That's what they _always _choose."

I smile and grip his hands in a way of thanks, before quickly adding, "By the way, _don't _say _anything! _You're the only person in this hospital who knows about this."

"Oh, _really?_" he smiled, slightly suspiciously, "Well, I'm the only person in the hospital who knows a _lot _of things…"

"Like what?"

He double-takes and takes a few steps back, "Well, if I _told _you, I _wouldn't _be the only one who knew them! Silly Blonde Doctor…"

Then he opens the door, and strolls off. A few moments later, he reappears, grabs a few cans of honey, and walks away again. I just laugh – the Janitor's hilarious!

It's left to me to turn off the light bulb and shut the closet door behind me. I do so with a smile, before I spin around to the busy hallway – _to real life_. My smile washes away and I'm left with the fear and nausea everyone in this place gets when they have to tell Dr. Cox something he doesn't want to hear.

Before I can do anything, there is a loud scream and JD, covered in a mysterious golden substance, slips down the hallway in front of me, before crashing into a conveniently placed ladder. Normally, I would rush over and make sure he's okay, but today I have bigger problems to deal with - _sorry, JD_. Plus, since he's in a _hospital_, I already know he's fine…or will be fine…

I sigh, ignoring my rambling thoughts, before turning towards the nurses' station. I'm praying to every god that I've ever heard of that he's busy, that he has something that needs doing. But nope, there he is, leaning on the counter and studying a chart. Still without lab coat, which I don't mind. Mmm…

_Snap out of it, Elliot!!! _

Come on, girl, you can do this. Just walk over there, _totally _confident, and demand to talk to him! Tell him that you're _having _this baby, and nothing he can say can change that!

Of course, I don't do that … instead, I quietly shuffle past, head bowed, hoping he doesn't notice me. No such luck.

"Barbie!"

I glance at him, and bite my lower lip in fear. He's forgotten about his chart, leaving it on the desk of the empty nurses' station and striding towards me. He looks sort of angry – his grey eyes just _smoldering –_ STOP IT, ELLIOT! For _frick's _sake! Yes, he is _attractive_, but that doesn't mean I am attracted _to him –_

"Barbie! Stop staring at me and snap out of it!"

My head jerks as I realize I _have _been staring at him, and he is now mere inches away, walking in step with me.

"Now, normally I would go out of my way to avoid you and your ability to annoy me _non-stop_," he begins as we walk, "But this morning, you somehow manage to not completely irritate me, which frankly worries me, because…you never _stop _annoying me! So, as much as it _pains _me to say it, I'm going to ask you what you meant by 'I'm sorry' and if you're…_alright_."

He spits out the last word like it's the last thing he wants to say, but it makes my heart soars to hear it. He _cares _about me! He's _concerned _for me! Of course, he would never admit it, but surely you can't deny _that!_

"So…tell me," Dr. Cox presses, "Tell me now so I can go away."

Oh God. Oh, fricking God. This is it – my one chance to tell him without chickening out. And even though I'm fricking _terrified_, I'm going to grab this chance – to hell with the consequences.

"Dr. Cox…I have something important to tell you…"

* * *

**You can all guess what's happening next chapter then. Yes? Good?**

**So, yes, the Janitor is **_**wildly **_**OOC (I think…), but it **_**is **_**midnight, so can I have a little slack please? :) In fact, **_**everyone **_**was probably OOC, so my apologies. And I have no idea how Dr. Cox will react – any suggestions would be **_**very **_**welcome!!**

**Anyway, last but not least, please review!**

**P.S. Yes, I think Dr. Cox is **_**very **_**attractive. xP :D**


	5. My Confession

**Way-hey! In between a lot of sleeping, my school holidays, a trip to Denmark, the end of my school holidays, changing my icon a million times and watching **_**My Musical **_**(it's GUUUUY LOVE!) a million times, I found time to update my story after its worst cliffhanger yet! **_**–punches air; truck horn blares- **_**I need to stop watching that show so late…**

**So, the same rules apply: **_**Scrubs **_**isn't mine; characters will probably be OOC; please review; and don't hate me if the characters **_**are **_**OOC. And did I mention review? :)**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Confession_

_My vision is blurry as I slowly open my eyes, blinking groggily against the harsh sunlight streaming through the windows. A dull ache pulses through my neck, arms and legs, while a full-blown pain rages inside my skull. My head is slowly rising and falling to the rhythm of breathing, and I'm vaguely aware of a heart beating underneath my hand._

_It takes a moment, but the bliss of leaning on a man's chest slowly drains away as panic sets in when I realize just _whose _chest I'm leaning on._

_Carefully, I raise my head and look around. It's obvious that I'm in a car – the backseat of one, no less. It's a tight fit, but somehow, we managed to organize ourselves so that we both slept comfortably. Mind you, I never thought I would ever sleep comfortably while flush on top of _Dr. Cox_, but you gotta do what you gotta do…_

_I slowly sit up, moving backwards until I'm upright and can see my clothes, thrown over onto the front seat during the night. Unfortunately, the car has a rather low roof, so the moment I'm upright, I bump my head on the ceiling and release a surprised yelp. It isn't _loud_ – but a little bit high-pitched…maybe._

_Either way, it wakes Dr. Cox up. And I immediately can tell that seeing me, naked, needlessly crossing my arms over my chest to preserve a _little _dignity while straddling his hips, is _not _his idea of a good wake-up call._

"_Barbie…what the hell_ _are you doing?"_

Frick. I can't drink coffee anymore.

We're in the doctor's lounge now; he's seated on the couch, watching me irritably, while I stand at the coffee machine, deliberately stalling. I am already halfway through stirring v-e-r-y slowly when it occurs to me that caffeine is bad for the baby.

_Frick_, that sounds weird. The baby. The _baby_. _The _baby. _My _baby. Have I really only known about it for a few hours. I feel like I've known it forever.

Then I look down at the cup of coffee in my hands. _God…_how could I live without caffeine? How would I get through my shifts? I suppose I'd get fairer shifts, being pregnant and all…

_But STILL!_

Resisting my urges, I turn on my heel and plaster a grin on my face, holding the polystyrene cup out to Dr. Cox, who's standing now with his arms folded, "Got you a cup of coffee, buddy!"

Buddy? Oh dear God…

Dr. Cox raises an eyebrow at me, before taking the cup and throwing it over his shoulder. It narrowly misses a terrified intern (who runs squealing out of the room) and smashes into the wall. The coffee slowly drips down the wall, before landing on the old carper and being soaked up.

I nearly cry.

"_So_, Barboo," Dr. Cox begins on what sounds like another famous rant, "Are ya gonna why the hell you dragged me in here, so I can get back to my patients, cos I'm pa-_retty _sure that in the time it took you to actually _get _that stupid coffee, at least – I dunno – twelve, thirteen must've died, if not of their diseases, then of _old age_. Now, I respect that, as a girl, you like to take your time on _everything_ – curling your hair, doing your make-up, what have you – and I like to think that _normally_, I'm tolerant of that – I mean, I put up with Violet and _her _mindless whining and – Barbie? Are you listening?"

I'm not, no. Instead, I'm off in a daydream, which is frankly strange, since that's JD's thing. But I've latched on to something he said in that speech.

_Violet_.

Violet's a nice name. I wonder if my baby is a Violet. If it's a girl, of course. Actually, there are a _million _flowers names: Rose, Lily, Daisy – well, maybe not _Daisy_, because I have an aunt Daisy, and I'm not crazy about naming my daughter after her; I haven't been able to look her in the eye since that "incident" with our gardener's mother, and I swear to God –

"Oh, my God, not _another _one!"

Oh, yeah. Dr. Cox. Who is now clutching his chest in mock-horror.

"Exactly _how _many daydreamers do I have to be stuck with until someone is merciful enough to kill me?" he demands, "Listen, Barbie, if you _wanna _daydream, be my guest, but would you mind doing it _after _you've got out of my hair? Now tell me what you need to tell me – and _don't _go into another day-dream, because I may just go crazy and kill someone."

Oh, fantastic. He's going to be a _hell _of a father.

Oh. Frick. How do I tell him this? Okay, easy…I just calmly, and gently, ease into the news and –

"_You didn't use protection._"

– completely humiliate myself. _Frick_.

But he doesn't understand; his brow furrows in confusion. Maybe I can still salvage this?

"Protection?" he repeats.

"Um. Yeah," I stammer, before sighing, "You-you remember what happened? Th-that night? In the…um…the car?"

Ah. _Now _he remembers. Actually, it's kind of flattering that after getting completely wasted, he can still remember sleeping with me, which means I can't have been _bad_, and holy frick, is Dr. Cox _blushing?_

"I remember," Dr. Cox responds stiffly, "But why the hell do you care _now? _That was months ago!"

Okay…breathe, Elliot. Everything is going to be okay.

"…I'm pregnant."

Oh. _That _was quick! I can't help the small, self-satisfied smile creeping onto my face as I inwardly cheer for telling him without freaking out.

But then I see his face, and realize I shouldn't have been worried about _me _freaking out.

"_What?_" he rasps. He appears to have frozen – his arms locked in position, hands on hips; his face ashen from shock; crazy eyes, crazier than _ever_, staring into mine so intensely that after a minute I look away.

This isn't _exactly _what I had in mind…

"I said…" my voice hitches, and I clear my throat before trying again, "I said I'm preg—"

"Dr. Cox!"

Before either of us can really react, Carla bursts into the room, eyes narrowing at Dr. Cox, "_Hey! _The Board meeting began ten minutes ago! You need to be down there!"

She doesn't notice either of our appearances, or the sudden terrible tension between us – if she does, she does a good job of hiding it. I keep my eyes fixed on the floor, heart in my stomach.

"Tell them I'll be down soon," Dr. Cox grinds out; he's talking to Carla, but I can feel his eyes on the top of my bowed head.

"I've already _said _that; I can't make them wait any longer!"

There is a silence. Dr. Cox seems at a loss; torn between his job and the sudden news he's just had dumped on him. Carla is clearly getting annoyed at the Chief of Medicine's apparent lackadaisical approach to his job. And I'm frantically trying to remember to breathe…while wondering what the _frick _I was thinking, telling him at work!

_Frickedy-frick-frick-with extra frick!_

With a growl, Dr. Cox turns on his heel and storms out of the room. I just stand there, slack-jawed, staring at the door through which he left.

That's _it_.

Now he knows he's going to be a father.

I've completely changed his life…

Now _that's _a weird feeling.

"Are you alright?" Carla asks, frowning, "What was that all about? And isn't it your day off?"

I snap my head around to her and glare, "_What's with the third degree, Carla?!_"

"I wasn't—!"

"Can't a girl just spontaneously come down to her workplace which has taken up the best years of her life on her rare day off?" I ask, trying to sound jokey – or at least, calm. I don't want Carla to know yet; I only _just _told Dr. Cox. There's still some talking to be done before we break the happy news.

Carla purses her lips and narrows her eyes at me, suspicious. She looks up and down, taking me in, as if trying to work out if I have a juicy secret.

But she can't tell.

…not yet.

Right?

"Fair enough," she says slowly, "I'll just…get back to work."

I grin at her, "Coolio."

She smirks at the word "coolio", before turning on her heel and walking out the room. I deflate the moment she's gone, and collapse on the couch, emotionally exhausted.

What the hell will it be like raising a kid with that guy when telling him about it was tiring enough?

* * *

"Elliot? Elliot?"

My eyes snap open in shock and I jump up, screeching. JD and Turk jump away, also screaming in surprise.

"_What the frick are you doing?!_" I yell.

"Seeing if you were awake," Turk replies lamely. I rub my eyes in confusion, and glance at the clock.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"Yeah," JD says, "You were out for a while too."

I yawn, stretching my arms behind me and shaking my head. Then I remember and I jump up.

"Where's Dr. Cox?" I demand, eyes wide. It's been a couple of hours; surely his meeting's finished.

"His meeting finished a while ago," Turk confirms my beliefs, "But I think he took off."

"_Took off?_" I repeat witheringly, "Took off where?"

Turk shrugs, "I don't know! Wherever he usually goes. What does it matter?"

"Is everything okay?" JD asks, "You look sort of…"

"What?"

He doesn't reply, instead raking over my body in a similar fashion to Carla. Oh, _frick! _I _am _showing, aren't I?! I look down at my stomach, before lifting my panic-filled eyes back to JD.

"_What?!_" I ask again.

JD shakes his head, confused, "I don't know. You just look sort of…different."

Then, his head tilts again and he's miles away. I just groan.

"I have to go," I tell Turk, "It's important."

"That's okay. Isn't it your day off, any—?"

"How many fricking times do I have to say yes?!" I snap. He recoils a little, "Whoa! _Uncool_, Elliot."

I sigh, "I'm sorry, Turk. I—"

"And then the monkeys win all the bananas."

"Hello again, JD."

He blinks, clearly confused, "Where was I?"

I shake my head, and turn to leave, "I'll see you guys later."

As I rejoin the crowds in the halls, I think about where Dr. Cox could be.

_I think he took off…wherever he usually goes._

Where does he normally go?

I know where.

Ironically, it's the very place that got us into trouble in the first place.

With a sigh, I gather my keys, walk out to my car, and head towards the bar.

* * *

…**another fail? xP**

**I thought I was doing well at the start, but my sister walked in and killed my drive. ^^ Plus, I keep choosing bad times to write this – I guess my muse is best at midnight, huh? Unfortunately, my patience is not, which is why this chapter may seem rushed. And I'm sorry if the characters are OOC. I wasn't really sure how to get Dr. Cox to realistically react, so I did my best. And this was my first time writing Turk, so sorry about him too.**

**Review? :D**


	6. My Bar Buddy

**Hello again, **_**amigos!**_**:D Don't worry, it's still me, just with a jazzy new penname. Thanks once again for the lovely reviews – and though I have a feeling this is going to bother you…I hope none of the characters are OOC. **_**–ducks-**_

**So, enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Bar Buddy_

"…_and the he's just, like, 'no, Elliot, we kissed _each other_'! I mean, he's my friend an' all, but he _so _tried to kiss _me_! I was the kiss-ee! If he still had feelings for me, he should tell me, not be stupid and hide it!"_

_I scoff irritably and drain the remaining beer from my glass – my third or…or sixth? Next to me, Perry – yup, he's letting me try that, though he's considerably more drunk than me – shakes his head and sighs._

"_Of course, Natasha is not going to do anything even vaguely _not stupid_," he exclaims, "He's one of those people who…who is very stupid."_

_I giggle, practically falling off my stool at the movement this causes, and gesture to the rather good-looking bartender, Wally (boy, did Perry had a hoot at that!), for another round. He wanders over from flirting with the gorgeous statuesque blondes at the other end and frowns at us._

"_Haven't you had enough, lady?" he asks pointedly, one eyebrow insolently rising at me. I don't know whether it's the beer, or the way he's regarding me like I'm trash, but I immediately lose that happy, fuzzy feeling I had with Perry and glare, outraged, at Wally. _

"_Can't I decide when I've had enough?" I snap furiously, "Aren't I a big girl? I don't need to be told when to stop by some _kid _named after a _robot! _Gimme a break, I _killed _someone today!"_

_Wally's eyebrows shoot up, and I feel Perry watching me, before he whistles at the bartender, "Get outta here, Twiki."_

_After Wally glowered at us and left, Perry turns his body towards me, "Barbie, look at me."_

_Stubbornly, I stare down at the surface of the bar, not moving._

"Look _at me."_

_I raise my head and meet his eyes, looking doubtlessly pitiful._

"_C'mon, Barbs, I already told you. You did what you could to help Mrs. Hillsdale; you _know _you did."_

"_I should've saved him," I argue, "I'm a doctor!"_

_Perry just shakes his head slightly, "You can't save _everyone_, Barbie – you're not Superman."_

_I swallow and look away, refusing to listen to him, "Why are you being so nice? You don't even like me!"_

"_Look, I know what it's like to feel like you're responsible for someone's death," he tells me regretfully, "And trust me, you _don't _want to go down that road. If you do, there may be no coming back, okay?"_

_Then he does something that _really _shocks me; he reaches over, and rests his hand on mine, "Barbie. It _wasn't_ your fault."_

_I blink dumbly at his large hand, placed lightly over my little one on the bar. His skin is surprisingly soft, and his hand is so warm that I turn mine over and lace our fingers together, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. My breath is slightly heavier now as I lift my eyes to his again, watching him carefully for any reaction. He doesn't seen perturbed by my gesture; in fact, he squeezes my hand a little and offers me a small smile, which is a change from the almost feral snarls that I usually receive._

_At that moment, something in the air changes subtly and I'm left with a burning desire to kiss him._

_So, I lean forward and do so._

_It's more of a gentle brush against his mouth than anything, but still is _sort of _a kiss. I can sense his surprise, but I don't see his face, as my eyes are closed. A second later, I pull away, keeping my eyes closed so that I can pretend that what I just did was okay._

"_Open your eyes, Barbie."_

_His voice is low, but a hell of a lot closer than it was a moment ago. Obediently, my eyes open, and I unconsciously smile when I see that he _has _leaned closer, so close that I can feel his breath on my face. He's trying to gauge my reaction, to see whether I'll push him away or pull him closer. So, I reply by pushing my mouth onto his, this time a lot more fiercely. After a minute, he starts to respond, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss._

_And that's when things get _really _interesting._

The moment I step into the bar, I'm hit with a wave of nostalgia, and can practically see Dr. Cox – _got too afraid to call him Perry again _– and I, sitting at the bar, laughing as if we had always been friends. Of course, that wears off quickly, and instead, some of those stick-like bimbos, with blonde hair and dark roots, are in our place, giggling over their martinis. The only reminders of our time together are Wally, who gives me an evil look and turns towards the row of spirits away from me, and Dr. Cox himself sitting hunched over at the bar, staring into a glass of scotch vacantly. I take a deep breath and stride over to him, dropping into a chair so that there is still a space between us. Wally comes over and leans on the bar, his eyes narrowing at me.

"What can I get you?" he asks coldly. His hand was already reaching for the handle of a mug, the other poised above the beer tab.

"Just a water," I say quickly, resisting the urge to smack his hand away. His eyebrows raise, and he smiles, as if to say '_Learnt your lesson, huh?_'. Jackass.

At the sound of my voice, Dr. Cox stiffens, but doesn't move, to my relief. As Wally moves away, I glance at him, just in time to see him look back at his scotch.

"Hi," I greet him. He doesn't reply – not that I expected him to.

"Okay," I sigh, "Whenever you're ready."

After a few moments, I begin to tap my fingers on the bar impatiently. He still does nothing except sip his drink, and I have absolutely _nothing _to say or do.

Where the hell is Wally with my fricking drink?

"You think you'll be ready any time soon?"

_Nada_. Grumbling, I look around the bar, and then down to the bar.

Without really thinking, my eyes drift to my stomach, and I rest one hand on it. That's when I know I have to get Dr. Cox talking; if not for me, then for our kid. I hesitate, and then look up at Dr. Cox.

"Look, Dr. Cox…" I begin, shyly, "I know what you're feeling right now. Because _I _felt it too," I pause, watching him for a reaction, which he doesn't give, "I only took a test this morning, and I was…terrified. Cos, it's like you said: I always _wanted _a kid, but never actually thought I'd have one in a million years. Especially not with _you_," then I quickly add, "No offence!"

Dr. Cox blinks, and then drains the rest of his scotch. I take this as a sign to continue.

"But the thing is…" I take a moment to wonder how to say this, before I decide on, "Drinking or stalling isn't going to make it go away. I really am pregnant, Dr. Cox, and it really is yours. I'm sure. And I know you don't like me, and I _know _you don't like kids, but…you need to talk to me. Because –"

"_Barbie._"

I break off, eyes wide as he finally moves to frown at me. Before he can speak, however, Wally appears, slams a glass half-filled with water on the bar in front of me, and leaves again.

"_Bartenders aren't meant to play favourites!!_" I yell as he moves, smiling, over to the giggling women at the end of the bar. Obviously, he ignores me. Annoyed, I look back to Dr. Cox, who is still glaring at me.

"Listen, Barbie," he snarls, "I'm sure that little speech gave your confidence a _great_ boost and all, but right now, I'm trying to cram a night of drinking into ten minutes so that I can go home, and leave this little _talking _thing for another day. Cos believe it or not, I. Don't. Want. To. Face. This. Right. Now."

I gape at him, stunned, before spluttering, "But…D-Dr. Cox – "

"Can't you just go away and let me drink in peace?"

"_No!_"

Even I'm surprised at the force of that _No!_. He raises his eyebrows at me, before quipping, "Well, look who grew backbone! Maybe now, hell will freeze over and Newbie will _actually _grow a pair!"

I exhale angrily, and lean forward with a growl of my own, "Dr. Cox, I _know _that this is unexpected, but do you honestly think you're the _only one_ who is struggling with this? How do you think _I _feel? For seven years, you've been torturing me, and you've made me cry more times than I care to mention—"

"Twenty-seven."

"—but _this _is a hell of a lot worse than _anything _you've done to me in the past."

This manages to shut him up. I know I may be being a little harsh, but the man needs it sometimes, and damn it, I'm _pregnant! _Aren't pregnant women allowed to be crazy?!

"I know you're scared, because this means you actually have to worry about someone other than yourself, but you need to understand that it's ten times _worse _for me! I'm the one who's gonna get the looks, and get fatter, and more hormonal, while you get to walk away if you want to. And if that's what you want, then it's _your _choice, even _if _it does mean you're abandoning your _CHILD_, but I'll respect that decision if it's the one you make. But…" my voice falters and breaks here as my bravado ends, "Dr. Cox, I…I can't do this alone."

Tears are in my eyes now and my voice is choked. It's not an act, but I _could _use it to my advantage. Dr. Cox is staring ahead now, deep in thought, so I fish a tissue out of my pocket and wipe my eyes suddenly feeling a prize idiot.

"You definitely want to keep the kid."

Not a question; a statement. I answer anyway, "More than anything."

The weird thing is, it's _true_. I _do _want this baby more than anything.

He doesn't say anything for a moment. Then, he reaches over and pushes the glass of water towards me; an invitation to drink. I oblige, keeping one eye on him.

"I don't…"

I freeze, the water suspended in my mouth. _Oh frick. _He doesn't…he's going to –

"You don't expect me to…_marry _you or anything?"

I choke.

Well, I _was _expecting him to tell me he wanted nothing to do with me!

He pats me on the back as I cough, and then withdraws his hand as if it burnt, "I mean…I'll be there for you and the kid and all, but…"

He looks me up and down, before mumbling, "…eh."

Oh, gee, thanks for the self-esteem boost.

"That's fine," I say quickly, "I mean, as long as you're in it with the baby, it's…fine!"

I'm not sure if I'm telling the _complete _truth there; hearing him tell me that he's only interested in the kid and not being with me was obviously _expected_. But, it kind of makes me feel a little…hurt. Worthless.

Not that I want to be with _him_, or anything. _God _no!

Dr. Cox nods, and then signals to Wally for another scotch.

"Another drink for my best customers," Wally mutters sarcastically as he pours the liquor and passes it to Dr. Cox, who growls a few profanities at him. Slightly more confidant, I slip one seat over, onto the stool next to the father of my child. He doesn't seem to mind.

The silence we lapse into isn't awkward at all; it's actually quite comfortable. I can tell he's digesting the lifelong responsibility he's just taken on, and I leave him to it.

After a few moments, he takes a long sip of scotch, and then looks at me with a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Well, Barbaroo, looks like we've got ourselves in a pickle now, haven't we?"

I knew he would say that!

…kind of.

* * *

**Actually, I sort of liked this chapter. I had it finished by ten PM, so NO MIDNIGHT UPDATES TODAY (!!!), and I think I covered everything. This means we can get to the more interesting stuff! So now, I'm thinking that I need advice: how should the others react? And what about the baby? What do you think; how many babies, boy or girl, the usual. I'd love your opinions!**

**As for this chapter...as I said, I didn't _hate _it. Elliot's rant was more fun to write than it should've been, even though I'm pretty sure Cox was a **_**bit **_**OOC. Well, only one way to find out for sure…review? :)**

**Oh, and Dr. Cox calling the bartender Twiki is a reference to _Buck Rogers in the Twenty-Fifth Century_, this 1960s television show my mother loves. The bartender was named Wally, as in the robot from the movie _WALL-E_, a movie that my twin sister loves, so I decided a good jibe would be to call him the name of _another _famous robot; in the case, Twiki, the adorable little thing that can only beep. Sorry if this bored the heck out of you, but I just wanted this cleared up!**


	7. My Heartbeat

**Hey, guys, thanks again for the awesome reviews! Inching closer and closer to 100…**_**-is so not hinting-**_** It hasn't been long since my last update…has it? :S Well, that's irrelevant. I hope you enjoy this chapter and that no characters are OOC (again – you'd think I'd tire of saying that, but I don't!). And if the medical information is incorrect, I'm sorry; I don't really know how hospitals work. :) **

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Heartbeat_

_This may be the most embarrassing moment of my life._

…_and it isn't even nine in the morning yet._

_The car is already small, but the walls seem to be closer in even more as Dr. Cox and I struggle to dress side by side. One of us would've moved to the front, but neither of us wants to get out of the car undressed, and clambering through the seats would just make this _more _awkward. As I turn my upper body away slightly to clasp my bra, my eyes flicker of their own accord to Dr. Cox, who's just lifting his hips in order to pull up his jeans._

_I try not to feel disappointed._

_I yank my blouse over my head just as Dr. Cox opens the door and climbs out. He looks around the parking lot as thought it were normal for a man still in last night's clothes to be outside a bar in the early morning, and then slams the door behind him and steps instead into the driver's seat. I'm fully-dressed at this point and cower back slightly, hopeful that maybe he won't notice if I just sneak out the back –_

"_Are you coming up front or what?"_

_I startle at this unexpected speech, and stare open-mouthed at the back of Dr. Cox's seat, where he is buckling his seatbelt. A few seconds later, he looks over his shoulder and, seeing that I hadn't moved, frowned and whistled, "Barbie!"_

_Jumping again, I open the door and lurch out of the back, steadying myself for a minute before combing my hair behind my ears and opening the passenger door. I'm terrified, and I want to cry, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made me cry again._

_I slept with him._

_I mean, I fricking _slept _with him._

…_now that's a weird thought. I _actually _had _sex _with Dr. Cox – in the backseat of his Porsche. I'm sure he _loves _the fact that his precious car is ruined forever now - not. An image of him scrubbing the backseat with a sponge, wearing yellow gloves and looking horrified, rises unbidden in my mind and I giggle, which results in a strange look from Dr. Cox. But he doesn't say anything._

_That's _really _weird. Dr. Cox, saying nothing? Dr. Cox never says nothing! He's Dr. fricking Cox! I'm tempted to say something – apologize, or ask him to tell me what's wrong – but unfortunately, I'm too afraid of him. Period._

_We drive in silence for a while, and I watch the streets fly by; all the people, waking up and carrying on life as normal, while I can't help but feel mine had done a complete one-eighty and thrown me on my ass. _

…_I SLEPT WITH DR. COX!!!_

"_Barbie."_

"It was your fault as much as mine!_"_

_He shoots me a surprised look, while I inwardly freak out and wonder what the hell possessed me to say _that_. _

"_Look," he sighs, "I'm as…shocked, as you are, Barbie, but throwing the blame around isn't gonna change the facts."_

_Damn it. He's right._

"_So, I think, we should…just…" he groans, and forces a humourless chuckle, "Dammit, we…"_

_He struggles to speak for a moment, but eventually slumps and concentrates on the road, surrendering. He has less idea of how to handle this as I do. That's when it occurs to me that Dr. Cox is just as shell-shocked as I am – perhaps even more so._

_So, I decide to take charge._

"_Dr. Cox…" I stammer, "You're not under any obligations."_

_He throws another look at me, before demanding, "Elaborate."_

"_We were drunk," I clarify, and then amend, "_Very _drunk. We weren't really thinking straight and…" I swallow, and glance away from him, before directing my next sentence towards the dashboard, "It's not like it meant anything."_

_There's a silence, as I wait for Dr. Cox to respond to this. He takes his time – he tightens his hold on the wheel, adjusts his belt, completely ignores me, almost as if he has to think this through. At first, I wonder what there is to think through, before realizing that I don't honestly _want _to hear his answer. Part of me actually wishes we could go back to last night, when it was just us and there was no such thing as the real world. Shoot._

"_So what you're saying is…" Dr. Cox eventually replies, "Is that you're _alright _with pretending this never happened?"_

"_I…I guess so."_

"_With no ramifications?"_

"_Nope."_

_He just frowns, "Now, _really_, Barbie, what woman is okay with pretending a one-night stand never happened? Don't you normally get all pissy about that?"_

"_Dr. Cox!" I cry, genuinely offended, "I'm trying to make things _easier _for us! Can't you just be serious for one second and helpmeouthere?"_

"_Sorry, Blondie – your voice has reached that pitch where only dogs can hear you."_

_I grit my teeth, and force myself to calm down, "Okay…can we, just, forget this ever happened?"_

"_Already forgotten."_

_I hate this man…_

_We pull up outside my house and I jump out quickly, anxious to get away, when he suddenly calls me._

"_Yeah?" I ask, leaning down and peering at him. His eyes meet mine, filled with an unidentifiable emotion, while his mouth tries to form speech. I wait patiently, sure that whatever he has to say must be important._

_Unfortunately, I never find out._

"_See you at work," he finishes lamely, straightening up. I stare at him, before nodding and slamming the door, standing back as the car pulls away. I watch it and wait until it turns a corner and vanishes before breaking down from the shock and shame as I fully comprehend what just happened._

_At the time, I'm unaware that as I stand sobbing on the sidewalk, inside me, life is just beginning._

That was probably the last time I was in Perry Cox's car. Back then, I thought it would be the _final _time.

Well, I've been wrong before, because now I'm _once again _in his car (fully clothed this time…).

It's been three days since I found out I was pregnant, and three days since I made an appointment at Sutter Memorial Hospital – Perry and I agreed that we should keep this business away from Sacred Heart until we knew everything was okay.

So far, Perry seems to be coping well – well, ish. He hasn't freaked out in front of me, but when I stopped by his apartment this morning to ask for a ride, there was _significant _carnage. I suppose I can't ask for more; he's here, and he's calm. That's what matters.

"Tell me again, _why _couldn't we just go to _our _hospital?"

I glare at him, "Because the nurses in OB/GYN can't keep a secret, _that's _why! And someone might see us –!"

"Barboo," he interrupts, "Has it occurred to you that they are gonna find out _eventually?_"

"Yes! But I want it to be on _my _terms – _our _terms!" I retort, "And could you just _try _calling me Elliot?! We're having a baby; I think calling me by my first name isn't _that _much of a stretch!"

He exhales heavily through his nose and lifts one hand off the wheel to pinch the bridge of his nose, but wisely chooses not to speak. At the moment, I've learnt, anything can set my hormones off.

"We're here," he says gruffly, swerving into a parking space, "Let's get this over with."

"_AT LEAST _PRETEND _TO ENJOY THIS!!!_"

I rest my case.

Perry frowns at me, before begrudgingly grinding out, "Fine then…_Elliot._"

I smile at him, grateful, before leading the way towards the entrance. The receptionist is a old woman, face smeared in make-up and a kindly smile on her face as I walk up.

"Name, please?" she asks sweetly.

"Elliot Reid," I chirp. She types momentarily on her computer, and then looks up and says, "Please have a seat – the doctor will be right with you."

"Great!" I grin, turning around to see Perry already slouched in a chair, sulky. Annoyed, I drop next to him and hiss, "You know, I didn't _ask _you to be here."

He doesn't reply. I lean forward and pick up a random magazine from the table in front of me, firmly set on ignoring him. Unfortunately, the second I do, it's plucked from my fingers.

"_Hey!_" I snarl, twisting around to Perry. He holds up the magazine as if that's an answer, and only then do I see the cover – Hugh Jackman.

"I'm not having my kid subjected to such evils before it's even born," he tells me darkly, before throwing the magazine, face-down, back onto the table. I just stare at him; one moment, he really can't be bothered, and the next, he's _worried _about it?

"What the hell do you _want_, Dr. Cox?" I demand. Before he can answer, my name is called from across the room, and I jump up, following the nurse down the white hallway and ignoring the heavy footfalls behind me.

* * *

Dr. Mayfair, my doctor, turns out to be _very _handsome.

He's young, maybe just a fully-qualified doctor, with blonde hair that flops into his sparkling green eyes, and a smile that makes me melt a little inside. Under normal circumstances, I'd be flirting with him … but not while he has his head between my legs, and Perry is standing beside me looking like he wants to choke someone.

"And … relax," Dr. Mayfair repeats. I blush, which I'm sure entertains Perry _no end_, and try to oblige.

I've already had a blood sample taken, _and _a urine test, and Dr. Mayfair still insisted on a pelvic exam – I don't know why. Can't we just get on to the other stuff? We've been here so long that I'm beginning to see what Perry was whining about.

After a minute or two, he straightens up and smiles at us.

"Well, you say you're about … twelve weeks?"

"Give or take," I mumble, leaning up on my elbows.

"Well, that fits with the enlarged size of your uterus," he comments, "From what I can tell, everything appears to be normal – excellent in fact. There's just one thing remaining: ultrasound."

I unconsciously suck in a breath. JD and Turk have told me wonderful stories about hearing Izzy and Sam's heartbeats for the first time, and I'm looking forward to this; but the insecure part of me is terrified that there may be no heartbeat. Unconsciously, I reach behind me and grab Perry's hand for dear life – he doesn't let go.

"I'll just send in the ultrasound technician," Dr. Mayfair smiles, before departing. My exhale is shaky as I turn to look up at Perry, "B-but what if they don't hear anything?"

"They will," he murmurs, leaning in a little closer. To anyone who walked in at that moment, we might look like a married couple, sharing an intimate moment. Instead, we're two people in an unexpected predicament … sharing an intimate moment.

We break apart, however, when the technician, a young Hispanic woman in a lab coat, bursts in with a sunny smile on her face, "Hi! I'm Chloe Martinez, and I'll be your ultrasound technician today!"

As I introduce us, and Chloe begins to set up, she proves herself to be chatty, bright, friendly and sweet. I can tell Perry hates her already.

"So then!" Chloe announces, pulling out a wand attached to a speak via cord, "Let's hear this little one's heartbeat, hmm?"

I nod and raises the hem of my scrub top up, leaving my still-flat stomach on show. Chloe pulls out a bottle and squirts some clear gel onto my stomach – it's surprisingly warm, and I giggle and squirm a little as she spreads it around. Then, she presses the wand to my belly and rubs it around, before pausing.

"Is everything alright?" I squeak. She looks up and smiles.

"More than alright," she breathes, before turning up the volume on the speaker. A loud, fast paced _whump-whump _sound fills the air, and it takes a moment for me to discern a pattern in the sounds.

"Is that … ?"

This is the first time Perry has talked to someone other than me at the clinic, and I now register that he's stepped forward, lowered slightly to get closer to the speaker, to hear the heartbeat more clearly.

"That's the heartbeat!" Chloe confirms enthusiastically, "And it sounds like everything's good!"

"Good," Perry echoes, and I glance at him to see a small, dazed smile on his face. I grin back and squeeze his fingers slightly.

It's only then that I realize I'm still holding his hand.

* * *

I'm giddy with delight as we walk back to the car, as in my hands, I hold the first photographic evidence of my baby _ever_. Perry has one too, which he has stuffed somewhere in his pocket. As I slam the door behind me, I stop Perry from starting the car and smile at him.

"Thanks for being here," I say. He just nods, mumbling a quick, "Okay, Barbie", before igniting the engine.

"It meant a lot," I stress, hoping for a slightly bigger reaction. Which, to my surprise, I got.

"To _both _of us," he adds. When I look at him, he has his copy of the ultrasound picture, and is looking at it with that same unidentifiable expression. When he catches me looking, he stuffs it back into his pocket, sniffs, and says, "Let's go, then."

He pulls out of the parking lot, and speeds down the road, while the silence remains strong. We may not be talking much, but I feel more comfortable than I have in the last six months just sitting here, quiet, with small reminders of the biggest thing ever hidden in our pockets.

* * *

**This chapter has been sitting on my desktop for a few days now, and I **_**really **_**wanted it finished – so sorry if the ending was, like, rushed and really bad. But hey, it was pretty long, right?**

**And if anyone caught the **_**Desperate Housewives **_**references (Dr. Mayfair, "relax"), well…hee hee.**

**Man, you wouldn't **_**believe **_**how much Google-ing I had to do for this! I first had to find a hospital in Sacramento, California (I decided to place Sacred Heart there after reading another story where it was set there), and then wound up looking up all the baby information – including the development of the baby during Month 3, where I somehow ended up playing this **_**fantastic **_**virtual labour game. I'm not sure why I found it fun, but I'm twisted like that (lol). Anyway, I'm still convinced I got some stuff wrong; for instance, do the obstetricians actually do the heartbeat instead of the ultrasound techs? Ugh. So please let me know. **

**And I couldn't resist the Hugh Jackman reference. I saw **_**X-Men Origins: Wolverine **_**the other day, and found myself unable to comprehend that anyone could hate that man. He's hot as hell, **_**and **_**he's Wolverine. ARGH!**

**Finally, after my useless rambles, may I just say I hope no characters were too OOC, and please review. Thanks!**


	8. My Friends

_**Scrubs **_**still isn't mine. And waging war on the people to whom it belongs does NOT work, it turns out. Huh…**_**lmao.**_

**Anyway, please read and review!**

**The title of this chapter does not only give you a clue into what happens, but is also a reference to one of the funniest songs in **_**Sweeney Todd**_** – which is **_**not **_**a funny movie. Sorry, I just had to clear that up in case anyone got the song in their head during the course of this chapter. :)**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Friends_

"…but _seriously_, isn't it weird to think about that? To begin with, we are just tiny, insignificant blobs, but however tiny, we change the course of someone's whole _life!_ And then we grow, and mature, and become so, so much more than we ever began to be, and then the cycle of life is complete…"

"…and we start making our _own _little 'blobs'?"

That is _so _typical! Every time I start getting _vaguely _philosophical, someone has to shoot me down. In this case, it's Perry.

"Come on!" I moan, reaching over the gearshift and poking him, "I just mean that don't you think it's so…_amazing _to think about how small we start off, and how we evolve?"

Perry frowns at me, "_No_, Barbie, I think it's _science_. And I can't believe we're even _talking _about this. And don't poke me, cos pregnant or not, I _will _poke you back!"

I huff and fold my arms, "I just heard my baby's heartbeat for the first time; gimme a break!"

He rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath, but I see the slight smile on his face. Mischievously, I uncurl my arms and grin at him, "You know what I think? I think _you're _just as happy about hearing that heartbeat."

To my shock, my efforts to tease him fail. He just shrugs and says, "Maybe."

I open my mouth to pester him more, but he abruptly swings into the Sacred Heart parking lot – I hadn't even noticed we'd arrived!

Oh God…was I having a _good time _with Perry?!

"Back to work, then," Perry grins, jumping out of the car. He quickly checks around the car park, before whistling to signal that it's safe for me to reveal myself getting out of his car.

"You know, people are gonna find out eventually!" I point out as I open the door and pull my lab coat from the backseat (God, just _touching _that thing makes me blush!).

"I'm aware of that," he replies stiffly, "In fact, now that I know everything is A-okay with the child, I was just about to call my sister, so that she can curse me for immorality, banish me to the gates of Hell, and I can get _that _done and dusted."

"Good! The quicker we rip the band-aid, the better!" I agree, miming the motions a little on my own arm.

"You think so?" Perry asks enigmatically, giving me a pointed look, before turning and walking towards the hospital while shrugging on his coat.

_You think so_? What the hell did that mean? Is there someone he wants me to—

Oh, no. No.

Why do _I _have to do it? Can't he?

I can't. No. Not alone. I _refuse!_

* * *

"Hey, guys!" I chirp as I approach Carla, JD and Turk at the nurses' station, "How's it going?"

"Okay," JD replies, "It's been kind of slow. Hey, how was your morning off?"

"Ummm…" I look down quickly, and then back up, "That's…kind of what I wanted to talk about."

"What's up?" Turk chips in, eyes firmly fixed on a pencil he's dangling in front of him. Annoyed, I reach over and yank it from him, and he stares at me in horror, "_Woman!_"

"Turk!" I cry, "This is _serious!_"

He huffs and sits up, while Carla frowns at me, "Is everything okay, Elliot?"

"Actually—"

Just as I am about to deliver the most unbelievable news of my life to the people I love like family … my pager goes off. I slump, defeated, as I begin to dig in my pocket to find it. Upon pulling out a hair band, a handful of coins, a piece of paper and a hell of a lot of lint before finding my pager, I groan.

"Sometimes, I wish I'd never become a doctor," I lament, before stomping off, picking up the hair band before I leave and using it to twist my hair into a professional bun.

"I wonder what life would be like if Elliot _wasn't _a doctor," I hear JD muse behind me. Unfortunately, I _don't _hear Carla pick up the paper and slowly begin unfolding it…

* * *

"Well, Mr. McLeod," I say, smiling at the red-headed man in the bed, "You have appendicitis, which means you'll require surgery. Now, I _know _that surgery sounds worrying, but you have nothing to worry about. You have a good prognosis, especially since we caught it early, and I can schedule you in for an appendectomy tomorrow at the earliest."

"Oh, that's just great!" Mr. McLeod exclaims jovially. I catch onto his thick accent and rolling 'r's and grin.

"Wow, you're actually _Scottish?_" I giggle, "I thought it was just the—"

I catch the look of surprise he's throwing me, and 'doctor' up, "Um. Sorry. Anyway, everything looks good here, and I'll see about the surgery."

"Thanks, luv," Mr. McLeod replies, smiling good-naturedly. Oh my God, he is so…_Scottish! _I love that!

And I can't help feeling like I'm _finally _won one – a nice, funny guy, who's hopefully going to be just fine. What luck!

I practically skip out of the room; but the moment I do, I feel a pair of eyes burning into me – in fact, _three_. JD, Carla and Turk are all staring at me, but pretending they're _not_, so I know they _so_ are. It's like they know something I don't. Brow furrowing, I wander over, "Hey, guys."

They all mumble various jumbled greetings, deliberately looking away. I narrow my eyes a little, before saying, "Listen. About what I was saying…"

I trail off when Carla slowly pushes the paper across the desk towards me. Frowning, I pick it up, and am confronted with a certain fuzzy black-and-white picture, a familiar blob in the middle of it, and at the bottom, the words: **Patient: Elliot Reid. 12-week son; Sut Mem.**

_Oops._

"What the hell is this?" Carla asks quietly. I stare, wide-eyed, at the picture, unable to think of anything other than, _Frickedy-frick-frick-with-extra-cheese!!!_

"Well…" I eventually stammer, "It's…an ultrasound picture."

"Yes," Carla agrees sarcastically, "Elliot. Is there something you want to tell us?"

_Oh, frick_. Now is the perfect time, and yet I can't get my mouth to work.

"Just _say it_, Elliot!" Turk cries, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He knows as well as I do that the jig is up—they already know the truth and I just need to confirm it. Unfortunately, I get a little _too _caught up in the moment.

"I'm pregnant!" I yell, resulting in several nurses looking my way. When I notice their surprised, judgmental eyes on me, I wave and stage-whisper to my shocked friends, so the nurses can hear me, "Some people just cannot take a good pregnancy joke!"

The nurses nod at each other and turn away to the next issue calling for their attention. What, do they not think I'm likely to _actually _be pregnant?!

Wait, wait, wait, that doesn't matter right now. What matters are my slack-jawed friends.

"…guys?" I whisper timidly. There was a moment's pause, before:

"_How could you?!_"

"I CALL GODFATHER!"

"Well, _I _call _blodfather!_"

"You don't even have a _boyfriend—!_"

"What the hell's a _blodfather?_"

"A black godfather!"

"How could you be so irresponsible—?!"

"There's no such thing! You're making stuff up!"

"What, like _bluncle?"_

"_I _call godfather _FIRST!_"

"I mean, _who's the father?!_"

All three of them silence, suddenly looking at me with interest. Disoriented from the yelling, my head spins when they stop, and I stammer, "Oh, what?"

"The father, Elliot!" Carla repeats, "Who's the father?"

I don't reply. I feel like I've shrunk back, trying to make myself small so I can scurry away and let Perry deal with it. But, I can't. It's like I told him that night at the bar – we have to be strong for the baby.

But that doesn't mean I _speak_.

After a few seconds, JD uncertainly asks, "Is it … is it mine?"

"_What?_" I yelp, "No! We haven't slept together in years! How is that pos—?!"

I cut myself off in an attempt to prevent the inevitable, but it's too late. JD's head tilts off and his eyes glaze over, leaving just me, Carla and Turk.

"Look, Carla," I sigh, "You just … have to understand. I was _very _drunk—"

"You were _drunk?!_" she interrupts, horrified, "Elliot, honey, that is _not _a good way to bring a _child _into the world!"

"What, just because I was drunk means I shouldn't have this baby?" I demand, suddenly furious.

"That's not what I'm saying—"

"Then what _are _you saying, Carla?"

"I'm _saying_," she snarls, "that you shouldn't have a baby until you're ready! This isn't something that should be forced on you when you get drunk and have sex!"

"Carla, I have been ready for _five fricking years! _Just because I was _drunk_, and just because _Dr. Cox _is the father—"

"We'd never use that turkey baster again!" comes JD's shout as he resurfaces from his daydream. There is more silence – something that is _way _too common for me today – as Carla and Turk stare, shocked, at me, I lower my eyes to the floor, and JD looks at us all in confusion.

"What'd I miss?"

"_What _did you say?" Carla asks slowly, eyes narrow. I take a deep breath, and then look up and meet her gaze.

"You heard me. I slept with Dr. Cox."

Now JD looks shocked as well; Turk just looks disgusted.

"Does he know?" she asks, in a surprisingly calm voice.

"Yes," I say quietly. Now, she looks murderous, as though she's had an epiphany and isn't that happy with it. And it seems her rage is directed at—

_Eep_. Me. Oh, frick, I'm gonna die in a hospital. I can see the front page now; _Blonde Doctor Killed In Hospital After Getting Pregnant. _That is seriously messed up.

"That bastard."

…_eh?_

"What?" I blink at Carla, who is now looking over my shoulder as though staring at some unseen foe.

"Dr. Cox!" she explains angrily, "He thinks he can just screw you over and get away with it?"

My eyes widen, "No, Carla, he didn't—"

"Well, it stands to reason!" Carla interjects, "I know he's my friend and all, but … just not fatherly, you know? At least not to _kids!_ Plus, these last couple of days, he's been on a rampage; it's like he thinks he can take out _his _anger at _his _mistake on _us! _God, Elliot, I'm sorry I reacted so badly."

I'm speechless as she reaches over and wraps her arms around me. But her hugs always have a motherly feel that my own mother never bothered showing to me, so I melt and just nod as she smoothes my hair a little. Turk's expression, meanwhile, has not changed yet.

"You and _Dr. Cox?_" Turk shudders incredulously, "_That _ain't right!"

"I thought you hated him!" JD exclaims. He looks slightly wounded now, and I feel the pressure of tears building up behind my eyes. I slowly detach Carla and look up at him.

"I know, JD," I whimper, "But, the night Mrs. Hillsdale died, we went out, and got _really _drunk, and then I sort of kissed him and we just—and then he put his hand—"

"_Whoa!_" Turk snaps, putting a hand out to stop me, "_No. _This is getting _way _too disturbing. It's just _wrong_."

I sniffle now, feeling pitiful, "I'm sorry, Turk. I-I didn't mean to up-upset you…"

Frickin' hormones. My lip is beginning to wobble dangerously, and I know that I must be near tears because both Turk and JD look scared.

"Elliot, it's okay," Turk says quickly, waving his hands, "You don't need to—_no_, don't do that!"

I'm beginning to hiccup now, and Carla strokes my hair again, murmuring, "Don't worry, Elliot, _he_ didn't mean to upset _you_," she shoots Turk a meaningful look and he immediately agrees. JD still looks a little shell-shocked.

"I'm sorry, guys," I rasp, "It's just the hormones. They've been going crazy and—"

A sharp whistle rings out through the air and I wince when I recognize it straight away. Oh dear, this can't be good.

"Funny, because I thought that as _doctors_, that meant that we had to actually _treat _sick people," Perry drawls as he storms over, "or, in Gandhi's case, cut them up and make them _worse_, but, oh dear, apparently I'm mistaken, because you all seem to think that we should stand around and _gossip _instead. Now _that _would mean that the years I spent at medical school would have been a waste, but, what the hey, my own fault, right? So, what are we talking about? How about sad ol' Bobbo down in the coffee house, or Dr. Mickhead and his suspiciously dead wife, or—"

"The fact that you got Elliot pregnant?" Carla smoothly cuts in, one eyebrow arching at him in a way that instantly shuts him up. He looks in confusion, first at Carla, then at me. When he sees my guilty face, he sobers up and frowns.

"Barbie … " he says slowly, "What have you done?"

I try to explain – _honest_ – but Carla had other ideas. She steps forward so that she's in his face, and snaps, "You listen here, _sir_; I know that you think you're this great, smart, super guy, but in reality, you're just a pig-headed _jerk_. And now, because my friend made the mistake of _sleeping _with you, she has to pay the price. You may think it's _okay _for you to abandon her, because you only care about _yourself_, but I just wanna know when the hell you're gonna grow up and see—"

"Now this is strange," Perry comments, "Because Barbie gave me almost the exact same speech when she told me. Now I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but here it is anyway: I actually am _very _clever. I _don't _need to hear the same thing twice. And more importantly, _why _am I hearing this twice?" Suddenly, his eyebrows shoot up and he looks at me in irritation, "Is this because I didn't buy your philosophical crap, Barbie, or did you just feel like torturing me?"

I officially want the ground to swallow me up. I shrug and smile nervously at him, trying to convey the message, '_GET ME THE FRICK OUT OF HERE!_' without speaking. Carla turns to me with a frown.

"Actually, um, Carla," I squeak, "Dr. Cox came _with _me to the ultrasound this morning."

Realization dawns on Carla's face, and she suddenly has the look of someone who put their foot in their mouth, but is too proud to admit it. She looks back at Perry, and says, "So … you _are _gonna to be there for her?"

Perry scowls and folds his arms, "You don't think I'd wanna be there for my _kid?_ To be honest, Carla … I expected a _little _more faith!"

Before he can start another rant, Carla sighs and throws her hands in the air, "To be honest, that's _really _screwed up. But … " then she smiles at each of us in turn, "If that's what you guys want to do, it's _your _decision. I guess it doesn't matter as long as _you're _happy and the kid is happy."

I smile back, wiping away the last remnants of tears, while Perry frowns, "That doesn't _sound _like you, Carla. Normally, you _love _messing with other people's business."

"Hey, you listen here—"

At this point, JD stops a potential argument by butting in with, "Hang on – let me get this straight. So _you _guys," points at Perry and I, "got drunk and bumped uglies. Then _you_," points at me, "found out you were … _pregnant_," the last word sounds slightly scathing, but that tone is gone as quickly as it came as he continues, "And now, _you _guys," points, again, at Perry and I, "are gonna raise a baby … _together_."

Perry and I glance at one another, and a tiny smile graces his face for a minute, before he looks at JD and replies, "That's about the size of it, Ruby."

JD lets this absorb for a minute, before eventually bursting from curiosity, "Sorry, but _how _did this even _happen?!_"

"What part of _too disturbing _don't you get, JD?!"

"I'm sorry, Chocolate Bear, but I _have _to know!"

Carla laughs and leans in to me, "I guess it won't take long for things to be normal again."

I grin and take her hand, "Thanks, Carla."

"For what?"

I shrug, "Being there for me."

She just smiles in return and squeezes my hand. Then we both turn our attention back to JD and Turk, who have somehow got back onto the godfather/"blodfather" argument.

A moment later, when I turn to look for Perry, he's already gone.

* * *

**It didn't take long for me to update, eh? :) Well, I got inspired for this chapter, and just decided to write. Though I did get distracted – for instance, at one point, I went on YouTube and looked up clips from Series 8 and the finale and I choked up. Then I watched the last five minutes of the finale, and at the end, died a little inside … I kid, I kid! But I did get choked up. **_**–sniff—**_

**Anyway … I can't believe I went the whole thing without saying, "I hope no characters were OOC". How odd. … Better rectify that. I HOPE NO CHARACTERS WERE OOC. :D**

**So, I hope you enjoyed, and please review!**


	9. Our United Front

**There are many things I do not own. **_**Scrubs**_**, unfortunately, is one of them. **

**Sorry about the wait! I've had a busy few weeks, and couldn't muster the will to find the time. Plus, ever since playing this X-Box game at my friend's, I've had a bloodlust, and gosh darn it, this story isn't that bloody. Dx How many of you would be against me writing a violent story?**

**By the way, this may be a filler, but as previously stated, my muse sort of died. Anyway, without further ado, enjoy!**

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My Lapse In Judgment  
_Our United Front_

On Saturday morning, I awoke from a rather pleasant dream with a smile over my face. I blink my eyes open and survey the white ceiling of my room, stretching out under the quilt languidly. As I try to recall the dream, my hand drifts to my stomach, in what I _think _is a loving gesture.

Then my brain catches up to my body and I feel the familiar churning and realize that I'm trying, in vain, to settle my stomach down.

"_Frick!_" I choke as I lurch out of bed and towards the bathroom. I only just make it to the toilet bowl in time, before noisily throwing up last night's tuna and pickle sandwich, and deciding that I officially hate being pregnant.

_Damn you, Perry Cox …_

When I start dry-heaving, I pull away and slump on the floor beside the toilet, and reach up to flush. I wipe my mouth miserably before standing and going to the sink.

How the _frick _am I meant to do this? Not just survive pregnancy – the whole thing! Having a kid, raising a kid, all of that stuff! I can't handle morning sickness that well!

God, I need a drink.

… but I can't have a drink because I'm _fricking PREGNANT!_

I groan, and fill my cupped hands with tap water, anxiously gulping it down. Then I wash my face, hopeful that when I look in the mirror, I won't look like crap – or a pregnant woman who just threw up.

I decide to forgo breakfast that morning, before feeling guilty about the baby and sliding some bread in the toaster. Then, I get dressed hurriedly, because thanks to my "bathroom break", I'm running late for work. I'm sure Perry will understand, but I don't _like _the idea of being late.

For some reason, thinking about Perry gives me a chill up my spine – and not a _bad _one. I can't understand why – maybe …

Eh. I'm sure it's _nothing_.

As I rush out of my room, I grab the newly-popped toast (classy, I am) and race downstairs and out of the house. As I clamber into the car, I pray that hopefully, nothing else will interrupt my –

Police car. _Frick._

* * *

"Excuse me, Dr. Reid?"

I glance up and smile at the sweaty lawyer in front of me, "Hey, Ted."

He doesn't say anything, but his expression tells me that he's marveling that I remember his name. But he quickly shakes his head and continues, "Listen, Doctor … rumor has it that … you and Dr. Cox had some … intimacy that resulted in a pregnancy, and I _just _wanted to make sure that you weren't planning on suing for … um, sexual harassment."

For a minute, I'm silent as I try to figure out whether he's serious. I start to laugh, but his soured face sobers me up and I quickly reply, "I don't think a drunken one-night stand _outside _the hospital is really sexual harassment, Ted."

He blushes – possibly at me being so frank – and clarifies, "So you won't sue?"

"… no."

"Oh, thank God!" he sighs.

"Yeah," I say, before adding, "I don't suppose you can get speeding tickets revoked?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

Turning away, I grumble half-heartedly under my breath. It hasn't been the _best _of morning, what with sleeping in, getting sick, and the two hundred dollar speeding ticket, but I'll be darned if I won't make the best of it.

Then I turn the corner and see JD leaning on the nurse's station, a puppy dog look in his eyes.

"What's up?" I chirp as I approach. He smiles sadly back at me.

"I'm just thinking about this … " he replies, "How we're all growing up … and changing. It's weird."

"Yeah," I agree, neglecting to add that growing up had brought some unexpected surprises for me especially.

"It's just making me think about when we were younger," JD continues, "And about us."

_Oh God,_ "Us?"

"Yep. About how we've … always managed to stay friends."

_Oh_.

"Relax, JD," I grin at him, "I think I know what you're getting at. You think that everything's gonna change because I'm having a baby, and you're right. But I'm not gonna leave you behind, okay?"

He smiles again, "Okay."

"In fact …" I muse, "Why don't we have lunch together today?"

JD straightens up, looking less downcast, "That's be great! Wh-when do you want to … meet up?"

"Twelve thirty?" I shrug, "I'm easy."

I'm aware that he could make an innuendo out of the _easy _thing – even though that's more Todd's thing – but he just smiles and turns away, with a casual call of, "See you then!" over his shoulder. I smile like an idiot for a minute, before a cold wave of realization washes over me.

Am I going on a _date _with JD?!

No. It's not a date. He _knows _it's not a date. I'm fricking pregnant with another man's baby!

This day could _not _get any worse.

"Elliot."

Oh, are you frickin' _kidding _me?!?!

"Keith," I stammer, turning around, "H-How's it … going?"

He just shrugs and fixes me with an icy stare, "I don't know, Elliot. How _is _it going?"

Okay, that doesn't even make sense! Right, Elliot, just don't freak out and calmly tell him the truth …

"I suppose you heard the rumors?"

His jaw clenches, "A few."

I swallow, before blurting out, "They're _stupid! _I-I mean, I don't know where they come from! I'm not pregnant!"

So much for the truth. FRICK.

"Elliot, I'm not an idiot," Keith snarls, "I think I deserve the _truth_, don't _you?_"

I just sigh and hang my head, "Keith … "

"Elliot, five months ago, we were _engaged!_" he exclaims, hurt, "How the hell have you managed to move on so fast, huh? Tell me, cos I could _really _use some tips here!"

Part of me wants to yell back at him, and tell him where he can stick his pity-speech – however, the more dominant part reminds me that Keith needs to vent, and has the right to.

"I still love you, and having to be around you _all the time_ isn't making anything better!" Keith continues furiously, "And to hear that you're _pregnant _… from the _morgue guys?! _Do you have _any _idea how terrible it was?! How _bad _it made me feel?!"

It was a rhetorical question, but I still squeak out a timid, "…no."

"No! You don't!" he agrees. However, before he can continue his tirade, a large hand slams on the desk next to us and Dr. Cox is suddenly between us, back to me and glaring at Keith.

"Keith!" he barks, "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't Mrs. George in 238 meant to be _your _patient? Because, for some reason unknown to me, _I _have been the one checking her vitals for the past _hour _and _I _am the one who just _stabilized _her after she _crashed _not ten minutes ago. But, getting back to my original point, why was it _me _and not _you?_"

Keith immediately goes from angry ex-fiancé to meek little doctor under the gaze of his terrifying boss, "I-I w-was just … "

"Fantastic story," Perry smoothly cuts in, "Now, how about you get on downstairs and make sure none of your _other _patients die now, hmm? No, go, go, go, _go!_"

As he snaps 'go!', Keith turns and power-walks away, quickly sparing one glance back at me. Perry, meanwhile, spins around to me and raises his eyebrows, "Barbie! Don't you have patients to keep alive too?"

I just giggle and, gesturing behind him, cry, "That was _incredible! _You just _defended _me!"

"No," he replies, shaking his head, "No, no, no, _I _was sending an idle resident down to do his work; I did _nawt _defend _anybody!_"

"Yes you did!"

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you _did!_"

Perry looks slightly uncomfortable now and just shrugs one shoulder, "We can keep at this all day, Barbie, we won't get any farther."

He can say what he wants; I _know _what I saw! And I saw Perry Cox standing in front of me, saving me from the wrath of Keith Dudemeister.

"Thank you," I tell him, before doing the stupidest thing ever: I lean up and kiss him.

On the _cheek_. Not on the – _no!_

I linger for a moment longer than necessary – out of shock, I tell myself – before pulling away, bright red. He doesn't look fazed at all, but I can see the surprise in his eyes.

"Don't you have work to do?" he asks quietly, before turning and walking away. I just watch him retreat, playing subconsciously with my stethoscope, wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

"Elliot and Dr. Cox … " a voice sing-songs beside me, "Sittin' in a tree … "

I turn my head and frown at Carla, "What are you talking about?"

She smiles knowingly at me, "Come on. What was _that?_"

"That was … " I trail off as I struggle to think of a good excuse, "… gratitude! For getting rid of Keith!"

"Mmm. I'm sure."

"Come on, Carla!" I snap, "A few days ago, you were sure he'd _dumped _me!"

"And I stand corrected," she replies stiffly, "_Now_, I can see how protective he's being of you – _and _how much more comfortable you are with him!"

"We're having a baby!" I point out, "We _have _to get along better! We have to be a united front for the baby!"

"I think it was your united fronts that got you _into _this situation in the _first _place," Carla quips. I consider strangling her for a minute – she's my _friend_, but _sometimes … _–but then the Todd pops up and grins, holding up a hand, "Innuendo-five!"

"No, Todd," Carla growls, not taking her eyes off of me. Dejected, the Todd snaps his fingers and leaves us in peace.

"Say whatever you want," Carla continues, "But I bet that you can't stop yourself from thinking about him."

"I think about the baby a lot – it and Perry are a package deal," I say smugly.

"I bet you wish you would hang out more."

"So does JD – and you're not accusing _him _of being in love with him!"

Well, I wonder …

"I bet you dream about him!"

I begin to deny this, before I remember this morning – the strangely good dream, the tingles up my spine when I thought of Perry … was there a chance that I … _did _dream about him?

As quickly as I thought it, a flash of the dream pops into mind.

_It's dark, and shadows bounce across the walls, but it's undoubtedly my room. I can see the sky, black and pinpricked with little white stars, but I pay no heed to the beautiful night sky – my attention is much more captured by the man in front of me, who is pressing me into the wall, placing a trail of warm kisses down my throat, one hand resting lovingly on my stomach. I lean my head back to allow him more access, my eyes fluttering shut as he continues his ministrations, and one name escapes my lips in a lustful breath: "Perry … "_

"Frick."

Carla smiles triumphantly, "I knew it."

"No!" I exclaim, shaking my head in horror, "O-one dream doesn't mean _anything_, Carla! It … it _doesn't!_"

She nods patronizingly, before sobering up and taking my hand, "You _know _I'll love you no matter _who _you love."

"I know," I smile back, "But I _don't _love him. I don't … "

… _think so._

Okay, so I think that now, my day _definitely _cannot get worse.

"By the way, Dr. Reid," the new nurse, Shirley (or, as JD prefers, "Laverne Again"), calls over to me, "Your parents called here earlier – said that they couldn't reach you at home. They want you to call them back, something about dinner plans. I assume they don't know?"

_Friiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick._

* * *

**I may be jumping the gun with Elliot liking Perry so early, but the lack of romance is beginning to grate on my nerves – what can I say? I'm a romantic at heart! And I have nothing else to say except: a) if any characters are OOC, I apologize, and b) please review! :D**


	10. My Phone Call

**Before I begin, may I just say a huge THANK YOU for giving me over one hundred reviews. YAY!! xD Thank you guys so much; you literally make this story what it is. I hope this chapter is just as pleasing … and that everyone is in character (coughcough). :)**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Phone Call_

Maybe they won't answer.

Yeah. Maybe, as if by some amazing good luck, his phone is off, and she's busy talking to her latest 'buddy'. Maybe they forgot their phones at home. Maybe their plane caught fire and plummeted, a bright ball of orange flames, towards the ground. Maybe the debris of what used to be my mother and father is now lying, broken and lifeless, in some crop field in, I don't know, _Kansas_.

As if.

After only two rings, the phone is answered and my father's gravelly voice fills my ear, _"Hello, darling!"_

"Hi, Dad," I squeak, glancing nervously around the hall. Why won't my pager go off?

"_I suppose that nurse gave you the message then?"_

_That nurse_. Charming.

"Yes, Daddy, she did. Y-you and Mom are … visiting?"

"_Just for a few days, pumpkin. I have a meeting, and your mother wanted a quick vacation in California, so we thought it was the perfect opportunity to see you!"_

Perfect? _Perfect!? _It's probably the _worst _time in the _world _that my parents could choose to visit me! _Now_ they choose to act like parents?!, "You bet, Daddy."

"_Is everything all right, Elliot? Oh—hang on, sweetie; your mother wants a word."_

There is a pause as I hear a few whispered angry words, and I exhale, annoyed. Can't Mom and Dad get along just _once? _Or divorce or something … ?

"Shouldn't you be _working?_"

I jump as a familiar voice asks behind me and spin to see, surprise, surprise, Perry, leaning against the wall.

"Shouldn't _you?_" I retort, "What are you, _stalking _me?"

"Actually, Barbie, I'm making sure you don't walk my kid down an elevator shaft. Come on, what am I paying you for exactly? Cos I _so _don't think it's standing around on the _phone _all day, do _you?_"

"Okay, this is about that fricking kiss, isn't it? You're acting pissy because of the kiss, right? Well, don't _bother_, because I swear, it wasn't _anything_, okay? It's not like I tried to get a repeat of the _dream,_ so you don't need to go all evil and frickin' psycho on me and—Hi, Mom!"

Perry's irritated expression lifts into one of surprise as I give a fake smile into the phone, "No, I _wasn't _talking to you, I was … talking to … someone else."

"_You really mustn't snap at your colleagues, dear," _Mom told me sternly, _"Snapping is a sign of stress, and stress leads to wrinkles. Maybe while we're in town, I could take you to a spa, get that tension out of you and see if it makes an improvement!"_

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose with my free hand (_another _sign of stress), "Actually, Mom, I'm not sure—"

"_Don't be silly, darling, it'll be fun. Your father and I are just driving to you—though God knows, I would rather have taken a cab. Your father's old hunk of junk needs _destroying_, but he insists it's _personal_. God, he talks about it like he's _married _to it!"_

During the last few sentences—namely, my mother's bitching—her voice hushes, clearly so that Daddy can't hear her. I just lean against the wall and groan, wishing my parents would start to _tell_ me before they showed up. Beside me, Perry is gazing at me with interest, any amusement or bad intentions gone.

"_Surely, you wouldn't mind a few days with us, honey? You don't have anywhere else to go, do you? Not since you and that _divine _Keith broke up—"_

"Mom, please … " I sigh, "I really need to talk to you."

For a few blissful moments, my mother is silent. During this, I cover the mouth piece with my hand and look at Perry, "How'd Paige take the news about me?"

Perry shrugs and replies, "Well, I've been condemned to hell, and my 'immoral harlot' with me, but other than that, I think she's okay."

I look helplessly at the phone, and then back at him, "How do I tell them?"

"Try saying 'Mom, you're about to book another Botox injection, cos you're gonna be a _granny!_'."

"Do you _ever _take anything seriously?"

He fixes me with a look, before nodding to the phone, from which my mother's shrill voice is calling. I lift the phone to my ear just in time to hear, _"—haven't cut your hair short, have you?"_

"No, Mom, my hair is still long," I assure her, before taking a deep breath, "It's more serious than that."

"_What's more serious than giving yourself a _piggy-_face?!"_

"Mom, I'm pregnant."

There. Just like with Perry, I said it as quickly and frankly as I could. And just like with Perry, there is a stunned silence. However, after telling the four most important people in my life, I'm not so scared about my emotionally-unavailable mother and am just apprehensive of her reply. I glance at Perry, who raises his eyebrows as if to say, _Well?_, and my back-stabbing mind pops another image of that dream into my head …

_The moonlight dances on his skin as I pull his shirt off his shoulders, and throw it into the corner, where it hits the wall and drops, crumpled, onto the floor. He chuckles against the sensitive area where my neck meets my jaw line, before placing a light kiss there and pulling away. I whine a little at the loss, before I'm abruptly smothered by his lips against mine. My hands slide down his chest, one stopping on his racing heart, while the other continues its journey, gliding down the muscles of his abdomen and coming to a stop just above his belt buckle._

"You gonna get that?"

I'm yanked out of my fantasy by the voice of the man in question, who nods at the phone, where my mother is once again speaking. Trying to disguise my blush, I turn and lift the phone again, "Sorry, Mom, what was that?"

"_I said … "_ her voice is barely above a whisper, so I definitely know she's trying not to let Dad hear, _"That you have nothing to worry about. I'll be there soon, and we can go through this together."_

"Wait, wha—"

"_Well, sweetheart, we'll be at the hospital soon!" _her bright voice chirps down the line, _"And I _will _be making that _spa _reservation, right, darling?"_

Why did she put some much stress on the word _spa_? Either way, I confusedly reply, "Um, sure."

"_Okay, Elliot. Bye-bye!"_

"Bye."

The line goes dead, and I wordlessly hang up, frowning at the receiver as if it has the answers. Then, I look at Perry.

"_Well_ … ?"

"She said … we would go through this together. She wants us to go to a spa," I reply awkwardly, wrinkling my nose and trying not to notice the way Perry half-smiles when I do so, "What does that even mean?"

"You're _not _really asking me that, are you?" he growls sarcastically, "Because I'm used to parents acting like they _care? _Gee willickers, Barbie, have we even met?"

I glare at him, before replying, "_Fine. _I'll just see what happens."

"Fine," he retorts, before turning and walking away. I'm just about to go to the front entrance to wait for Mom and Dad, when Dr. Cox freezes and looks back at up, a bemused frown on his face.

"Wait. _What _dream?"

* * *

**Probably not the best chapter yet, but my muse hasn't be cooperating as of late. xP Still, I hope this chapter wasn't **_**too **_**God-awful! :D Review!**


	11. My Outrage

**My aunt has come to stay for a few days today, so I decided to steal to my room quickly and write this, lol. Since school has started winding down, I have a lot of time, so hopefully more updates! xD**

**You know the drill – please let me know if anyone is OOC! :)**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Outrage_

I lean my forearms on the banister of the ramp and exhale heavily through my nose. I've been waiting out here, in the parking lot, for ten minutes now, and, as usually, my parents have disappointed me. Of course, part of me is delighted that I may not need to face them today—even though I'm _dying _to know what the hell my mother was talking about—because I don't think I'm ready to have my parents go completely judgmental on me. I mean, I hardly think _that _much of them, but I still love them! I don't want them judging me—_cough_, their only daughter, _cough_—because I made such a huge mistake.

Speaking of huge mistakes, how could I have mentioned that oh-so embarrassing dream in front of Perry? I managed to avoid talking about it, of course, by faking a page (he probably recognized it, being a veteran in the field, but he still let me escape), but at some point, his curiosity is going to be aroused again. And what will I say then?

_Oh, that silly dream? Are you still hung up on that? Well, funny story—it was actually an erotic fantasy involving you, me and moonlight that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. Now whenever I see you, I mentally picture you without your shirt on and I just want to throw you down and have mad animal sex with you. By the way, would you mind taking a look at this patient for me? _

Great. Now I really _do _want to jump him and have mad animal sex with him.

I'm just convincing myself that it's the hormones driving me so crazy, when my father's Mercedes pulls into the car park, and comes to a stop right next to the ramp. I wait patiently as my father exits the car, rubs at an imaginary spot on the hood, and then walks, grinning, over to me.

"Hello, darling!" he greet me as he stretches out a hand—yes, a hand. As in, he wants to _shake my hand_, rather than hug me like a regular dad. Nonetheless, I oblige, but the afore mentioned hormones urge me to squeeze really hard and attempt to break his hand. But nope; he just smiles and tells me I have a firm grip. Meanwhile, Mother hops out, and totters over. I look her up and down and come to the conclusion that she looks—

Well. _Younger_.

Her blonde hair is up in a tight bun, and her face looks prettier and more youthful than mine, her child's. She's wearing unbelievable tall high heels, and a tight red dress. It's very short, but I can see the hem has been folded up more, to show off her tanned legs. Clearly, the revelation of her impending grandchild has left her more insecure than I thought.

"_Elliot_, sweetheart!" she coos as she embraces me and kisses me on both cheeks. I smile tightly and reply, "Hi, Mom."

"Well, darling, aren't you going to show us in?" Dad asks, "I hear the place is under new management!"

"Well, yes, Daddy—"

"I think that's good—change is a good thing, Elliot, and Bob Kelso was beginning to get stale. However, I've heard down the grape vine that Perry Cox is the new Chief."

Speechless, I only nod.

"Why, isn't he the finest physician in the city?"

"_Um … _"

"I'm sure he'll do a fantastic job. I'd love to meet the man, of course, precious, if he's anything like what the rumours tell me. Everybody I've spoken to have told me only good things about him!"

I squirm, stuck on what to say next, "T-the c-cafeteria food has got a _lot _better since … err … ?"

_Smooth, Elliot. Now that they've heard that, they won't care that he got you pregnant!_

"Now, enough about that," Daddy continues as he leads us towards the entrance, "Tell us about _you_, honey; how's life been treating you?"

"Oh, Simon," Mom interrupts with a good-natured giggle, "I'm sure you don't want to hear about all of this girl stuff. Why don't _you _go and meet Dr. Cox, and Elliot and I will catch up?"

Dad looks conflicted, but his desire to meet Perry clearly overpowers his fatherly instincts and he asks me, "Would you mind, pumpkin?"

"Not at all!" I quickly exclaim. He smiles and, as we enter the lobby, wanders off to look around the hospital, and—most likely—determine if his is "still" better.

"Now, dear," Mom begins, her tone abruptly serious, "I know this may not be the best time or place, but the issue needs tackling straight away. I want to talk to you about … _this_."

She gestures to my stomach with a clearly distasteful look. I swallow nervously and stammer, "T-this?"

"This … _pregnancy_," she elaborates, before dropping dramatically into a chair away from the people waiting and barking, "Sit down."

I sit down next to her immediately, trying not to freak out. What if she disowns me? What if she forces me to marry the father?! Oh, God, what if—?!

"Are you _absolutely _certain about this?" she demands, clasping her hands on her lap, "Are you _sure _you're pregnant?"

"Yes," I respond, "I took a test last week."

Mom is eerily silent for a moment, before calmly saying, "Can you take another test?"

"_What?_"

"Just to make sure. Sweetheart, it might just be a scare."

I shake my head, eyes wide, "No, Mom, it isn't. I have an ultrasound picture that proves otherwise."

Again, Mom is quiet. The silence lasts for so long that I begin to shift uncomfortably and look around, considering the idea of helping the people in the waiting room. Then, Mom lets out a heavy breath.

"Oh, _darling_," she sighs, and reaches over to pull me into a hug. I stiffen, completely unprepared. My mother only ever hugs me when it suited her; whenever I crawled onto her lap for a cuddle as a child, she would pat my head, and then gently shift me off, insisting she wasn't the "hugging type". But when I was fourteen, and I told her I had my first boyfriend, she ran to hug me so quickly that she almost got whiplash, insisting she was happy it had "finally happened". So this time, I'm _very _worried. Awkwardly, I wrap my arms around her, patting her back like I would someone I hadn't seen in a long time.

A few moments later, she pulls away, but keeps a firm grip on my hands, "Now, darling, don't you worry. I'll take care of _everything_."

"You will?" I ask skeptically.

"Yes, Elliot," she cries, "You have to remember, we have options … "

_We?!_

"I mean, how far along are you?"

I shrug, "About … twelve, thirteen weeks?"

"That's perfect! It can be easily sorted, darling, just like that. It's just a simple procedure. I'll get away from your father tomorrow, we can go down to the clinic and have you taken care of."

As she speaks those last few words, she reaches out and squeezes my cheek as if I'm a child. Then, realization washes over me like icy water; she really _does _think that I'm a child—one that's going to bend to her will, and do as she says, as if the events of the last five years have meant _nothing_. She actually _expects _me to get rid of the baby now, after I've seen its heart beat?

"_No!_"

Her expression falters, and then crumples into a scowl, "No? What do you mean?"

"I'm not getting an abortion!" I exclaim furiously, "How could you _ask _something like that—_assume _it? I'm a _doctor_, for frick's sake!"

I forgo the part where I considered abortion for about thirty seconds, but that's not really relevant.

"Elliot, I _know _that at your age, you get a little desperate … " Mom croons patronizingly, "But you should wait until you're in a position where it won't make things _worse_. Wait until it can only benefit you. I mean, if it weren't for your brother Bradley, your father would've left me years ago!"

My mouth falls open—mostly because I didn't know that about Bradley, but _also _because I can't believe the things my mother is saying. I stand up, and then miserably ask her, "How could you say that? You're my _mother_; you're meant to support me!"

"Elliot," she snarls, also standing, "If you do this, can you even _picture _what you'll have to go through—what your _family _will have to go through?"

"Of course, because this is _really _about you, huh?" I snap back, outraged, "Well, I don't want to hear it! This is your grandchild, Mom—your _first _grandchild! And the fact that you're talking about it like it's not _real _just sickens me! I'm not getting an abortion—I refuse. I'm keeping this baby, okay?!"

I don't wait for her to answer. Instead, I storm off, brushing away the angry tears in my eyes, which unfortunately keep multiplying. My mother weakly calls my name behind me, but she doesn't sound angry anymore. She sounds … sad.

Well, either she feels repentant, or she's trying the crying-lady trick that often makes Dad crumble. Whatever it is, I don't look back.

I hope returning to work will distract me, but in the elevator up, the tears keep building up, blurring my vision so I almost miss my floor. As I stumble toward the nurse's station, I notice two things: one is Carla, standing behind the desk, pretending to work while watching me with a motherly eye. The other is my father, speaking animatedly to Perry, who is nodding in his 'I'm-pretending-I'm-listening-when-really-I-think-you're-full-of-crap' way. His eyes stray, unbidden, to me as I approach, and though I know he likes being the tough guy, the rebel, I can see the concern on his face. That is just enough to send my hormones over the edge, and (though I _try _to choke it back) I can't stop the tiniest sob from ripping out of my throat.

"Elliot?"

"Barbie."

Carla automatically begins walking around the desk towards me, while Perry blows off my father (who _finally _notices his tearful daughter), and follows suite.

And even though I _know_ I should turn to my best friend for comfort, I immediately turn towards Perry.

* * *

… **you know the book this is based on? I loaned it to a friend weeks ago, **_**finally **_**got it back today, so I based the scene between Elliot and her mother on the scene between the book's main character and her best friend. Of course, the original was probably better, lmao.**

**My muse was pretty well behaved today, but you still know what I'm gonna say. I would appreciate****any constructive criticism you had, but flames **_**will **_**make me cry. And if the characters are OOC, let me know; I'd really appreciate. Also, reviews would be just lovely. :D I appreciate the time you take out of your days to read my ramblings. Thanks for reading! **


	12. My Heart To Heart

**I changed my name again. :) I might actually stick with this one for more than six chapters, but if I don't, bear with him, hmm? LOL. A quick note before we begin – it would mean a lot if you would check out my new oneshot, **_**My Smile**_**, please? :D Other than that … no, that's it. Hmmph. Enjoy!**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Heart-To-Heart_

_I'm not sure what has transpired in the last few minutes, but somehow I've ended up on my back on the bed –_ our _bed? – stripped down to only my underwear. He leans over me, and I lift my head to capture his lips with mine again, my arms wrapping of their own accord around his neck to pull him closer, impossibly deepening the kiss. He smiles against my mouth, and lowers his body to press more intimately against mine, hot skin against hot skin. I arch my back and sigh longingly, my eyelids fluttering. I've never felt like this with anyone else – this feeling of completion, contrast, like he's Ebony and I'm Ivory, and somehow it was always supposed to work out this way. Then, all coherent thoughts_ _fly_ _out of my head when his hand slides up my calf, gently caressing my thigh, before slipping over my hip and resting, once again, on my slightly rounded stomach._

_I never want to wake up._

I'm jerked out of my reverie – or my own personal porn movie which never, ever goes on pause, as I've come to name it – by the star of it himself. Perry sits on the table in the doctors' lounge, where I'm slumped on the couch, and holds out a plastic cup. I blink, dumbfounded, at it.

" … water," Perry says in an explanatory way.

"Okay," I sigh, rubbing my eyes.

"You _drink _it," he adds, as if he's talking to an idiot. Which, until my brain starts processing information again, he is.

"Oh," I nod, and take the cup, before swallowing the water quickly. My throat feels uncomfortably dry, while my eyes are puffy and watery. I can't remember why, since my memory's a bit fuzzy after what happened with Mom.

Oh yeah. _Mom_.

"Don't drink so fast, Barbie," he tells me severely, grabbing the end of the cup and pulling it down. The left-over water sloshes back to the bottom, and I gulp down what is in my mouth.

"Deep breath."

I obey, still unsure as to why he's … well, _babying _me so much. I can see the worry etched on his face, and the stern way in which he's making sure I'm being careful just adds to my confusion.

"Feeling better?" he asks, before continuing at my nod, "To be honest, you gave us all a hell of a scare out there."

"What happened?" I ask worriedly, "I mean, I remember talking to my mother, and coming up the elevator and seeing you, but … it gets a little weird after that."

Perry raises his eyebrows, before deadpanning, "In layman's terms, you had a panic attack."

"I _what?!_"

"You were hysterical, of course. Crying, kept saying that you didn't want them to hate you cos they were your parents, but you loved your kid more, blah, blah, blah. Of course, option two is that the confrontation with your mom didn't go so well, and your hormones went off the scale. You'll have to be the judge of that."

As he talks, I can't help but notice that he's speaking as though I were one of his patients, not his crazy pregnant colleague. I can also see signs of my "panic attack" all over him: tear stains on his grey t-shirt, crinkles in his coat from where I must have been clinging to him. I shrink back in embarrassment – it's bad enough that he's been roped into this situation, but now he has to clean up after I mess something up?

However, he notices the way I cringe away, and breaks off, "Something wrong?"

I sniffle slightly, and stare down at my lap, "I'm sorry that I grabbed you like that."

"Believe me, not as sorry as _I _am," he replies, but I can hear the light-hearted note in his voice; one which quickly evaporates as he softly says, "Come on, Barbie, it's not your fault I was closer."

"You weren't!" I exclaim, looking up at him, "You _weren't_, because Carla walked towards me at the same time, so you were about even!"

He hesitated at this, before awkwardly suggesting, "Maybe it was the hysteria?"

I'm not sure what has inspired me to say what I do, but I shrug, and mumble, "Maybe I've just come to rely on _you _more."

There is utter silence for a moment as Perry and I gaze at each other, eyes locked as we both try to figure out what to say after that statement. After a minute, he looks away and chuckles.

"_Definitely _the hysteria."

I smile unwillingly, and look back at my lap, where my hands are now tightly clasped together. The atmosphere is uncomfortable now; why did I have to say that?

"Elliot … " he murmurs, and his voice sounds closer than it was before. My eyes shoot up to see that he _has _leaned closer, as though he were whispering something secret to me. Without noticing, my hand flies out and grasps at his for dear life, effectively silencing whatever Perry was going to say. He breathes out heavily, and I feel his breath on my face. Unconsciously, I lean a little closer – so close, that if he were to move in _just _a centimeter or two, our lips would meet …

"Elliot?"

My father's voice breaks the mood, and Perry jumps away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Dad enters the room fully, brow furrowed and hands buried deeply in his pockets.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asks tentatively.

"Nope, nothing," Perry replies quickly, and I shake my head in agreement, "Time to get back to work. Dr. … er, Reid."

He nods respectively at me, and then Dad, before striding out of the room as fast as possible. I just watch after him, wondering what the _frick _just happened, and didn't register my father sitting down next to me until he uncertainly tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hmm?" I turned towards him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Elliot, I'm sorry," he says, startling me, "I didn't realize your mother and my arrival would affect you so badly … "

I groan, and bury my face in my hands, "It's not _you_, Daddy, it's … look," I lift my head and meet his eyes, "I had to tell Mom some unwelcome news, and she upset me. And God knows I'm not exactly in such a good emotional state as it is!"

To prove my point, I wipe an errant tear away from my eye and slouch miserably, watching Dad's reaction … which, by the way, is baffled.

"Unwelcome news? What _sort _of unwelcome news?"

I blink, before fearfully replying, "Well, promise me you won't freak out. I mean, you can't _promise _that, because when can anyone ever know how they're gonna react, which kind of makes it a moot point, and makes me asking it unnecessary, but just … um, promise you won't hit me?"

"_Hit you? _Darling, why on Earth would I – ?!"

"Daddy, I'm going to have a baby."

He shuts up instantly, his eyes wide as he stares at me … probably not looking at me in the same way again. I just pull on my coat, look down at the floor, and mumble (not unlike the child I feel I am), "Daddy, are you mad?"

"M-mad … " he stutters, clearly shocked, before his face breaks out into a grin, "Of course not! Elliot, it's _wonderful _news! A grandchild!"

Now _I'm _the shocked one, "Um, Dad … you're only happy because Mom wasn't, aren't you?"

He just laughs and ignores the question, "I had no idea, sweetheart, that you were even involved with anybody!"

"_Er … _"

"Well, how far along are you?"

"Um, about three months – _but I'm not having an abortion!_"

"I didn't ask you to," he replies calmly, clasping my hand, "Elliot … is this what everything is about? I can't see why your mother wouldn't be delighted for you."

"Well," I begin, feeling myself beginning to quake from fear, "Y-you see, Dad, I-I'm not r-re-really _involved _with anyone … right … now?"

I'm not sure why the last word raises into a question, but the expression on my father's face pretty much quashes any questions.

"You're not involved with anyone?" he repeats darkly, "Then _how _are you pregnant?"

My mouth twitches automatically as I think of all the possible answers – _Well, Daddy, do you think I still believe it's the stork?_; _When a man and a woman get very, very drunk … _

"Elliot Reid, this is no laughing matter!"

"Sorry, Daddy," I squeak.

He sighs, and runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, before looking back up at me with wide eyes, "Who is the guy?"

"The guy?" I repeat dumbly, my own eyes growing into saucers, "What guy?"

"The _father_, Elliot, who's the father?"

I swallow, and take a deep breath – though, I'm ashamed to admit, part of me is delighted that, unlike my mother, my father got over the fact that I was pregnant, and instead began to analyze my sex life and find out who the man who got me pregnant was. _Ugh_.

But a second part of me didn't want my dad to lose his obviously high opinion of Perry.

"Dad, you _have _to know," I begin shakily, "He and I were _very _drunk … we weren't _entirely _in control of our actions and … I don't want you to hate him."

Dad is obviously trying to reign in his temper, and calmly inquires, "Elliot … who is the father?"

"It's Perry Cox."

The room becomes dead silent as my father processes this information—so silent, in fact, that it would be very easy to hear a pin drop.

_Ping!_

Dad and I twist around in surprise at the unmistakable sound of a pin dropping, to see the Janitor, hands in pockets, standing by the table and staring off into space. A moment later, he comes back to Earth to see the pair of us glaring at him.

"_What?!_" he snaps, before following our line of sight and looking at the pin. Then, he looks back up with a scowl and states matter-of-factly, "I'm not cleaning that up."

Then, he wanders absently out of the room. Dumfounded, I glance back at Dad, who looks like a deer caught in headlights, and timidly joke, "At least it's not him."

To my further surprise, Dad does the last thing I expect him to do: he chuckles.

"I suppose that's a good point," he concedes, before meeting my eyes, "Are you _sure _you want to do this?"

Smiling, I rest my hands contentedly on my stomach, "Yup."

"And what does … Dr. Cox have to say?"

"He wants to be there, Daddy," I reply, before giggling, "He won't admit it, but I think he loves this kid already."

Dad half-smiles, before it gives way to a fully-blown grin, "I'm … gonna be a _grandfather_."

"Yeah."

He laughs gruffly, and squeezes my hand, "If this is what you pair choose to do, I'll support you, darling."

I feel tears gather in my eyes again, but manage to force out a, "Thank you, Daddy."

"Oh, and shall I talk to your mother?"

I try not to look too eager … but I nod so rigorously that when I stop, my vision swims for a few seconds. A moment later, Daddy stands, pulling me with him.

"Come on then, love!" he chirps, "Introduce me to Dr. Cox—we hardly got to talk before you interrupted us!"

"Um, actually, Dad … " I interject hesitantly, "Dr. Cox is … well, he's someone that takes some getting used to … "

"Nonsense!" he waves off my warning with a good-natured laugh, "I'm sure that if _you _like him, I'll like him; he seems a good enough man."

Despite myself, I smirk a little as Daddy leads me off; _this could be interesting._

* * *

**This has been sitting on my desktop for the better part of three days, but that doesn't matter, because SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER! … IN SWEDEN! Yaaaaay! xD So, naturally, this chapter had to end happily. Also, for some reason, I'm happy to give fathers and sons, and mothers and daughters, and mothers and sons strained relationships, but with fathers and daughters, I just find the whole thing too adorable to make uncomfortable, because I'm pretty sure that every daddy would do anything for his little girl (even though Stephan King basically ruined that sentiment Dx). That's why I find Perry and Jennifer Dylan on the show too darn cute (and Daddy!Perry is fantastic), and why I made Elliot's father react well here. And … bad-a-boom-bah! :D Please review! **

**P.S. **_**Scrubs **_**isn't mine, and if any characters are OOC, I apologize, and please let me know, so I can improve.**

**P.P.S. I had to add the Janitor in there, because I feel really neglectful. The other characters have had a more significant role in this story, whereas the Janitor popped in in Chapter 4, and then popped back out again; and since I love him so much, I just decided to throw him in for a minute, lmao!**


	13. My Hurdle Race

**I'm baaaack! :) Miss me? Happy July! Sorry it's been a little while; don't get me wrong, I've been thinking about this story, but I have my ending in mind, and I really didn't want to deal with the in-between-y stuff. :P But … now I do! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, sorryifanycharactersareooc and please review! :D**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Hurdle Race_

You know, over the last few weeks, I've begun to see this pregnancy as a hurdle race. Each step I come to, I consider as a hurdle, one I have to clear in order to get closer to the end. Hurdle one was accepting that I _was _pregnant; hurdle two, telling Perry. Next was telling the three people who had experienced my highs and lows with me; and the most recent one was telling my mother and father, who left Sacramento a few days ago—my mother, in grudging acceptance, and my father with a bounce in his step.

_And now_, I think, as I stare into my mirror early one morning, _I have to clear the next_ _hurdle._

It shouldn't be too hard. I knew it was coming; I knew it was inevitable. But still, staring at my reflection, with her pajama top straining over her larger stomach, I'm having more trouble dealing with this than I thought.

When I woke up, not twenty minutes ago, and swung my legs out of bed, I hadn't notice anything different. It was only as I stomped by my mirror that I saw the small, but noticeable, roundness in my belly. It was something I _thought _I had accepted. But seeing that my favourite sleeping shirt is _clearly _going to get too small for me just makes me feel … you know, _huge_.

I'm a _whale!_

Okay, Elliot, don't freak out. It's normal for women to begin showing around now—after all, I'm just into my fourth month. No, the problem is that, with all the chaos and emotional turmoil of the last few weeks, I never even _thought _about maternity clothes.

_Oh, GOD, what kind of mother am I!?_

I'm very close to a nervous breakdown just by staring at myself in the mirror. My lower lip trembles dangerously and my eyes are unnaturally wide. However, I force myself to calm down as I slowly but carefully tread my way to the phone.

"Hello, Carla? I really need your help over here … "

Fifteen minutes later, there is a knock on the door. I freeze, just about to smother ketchup on my breakfast (I know, weird, right?), before eagerly running to the door and flinging it open. Carla, arms full of clothes of various sizes and colours, takes one look at my stomach and gushes, "_Aah!_"

"Carla!" I whine, "Can we just … ?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got out," she interrupts, pushing past me into my house and setting the pile on the table, "Well, I got all of the clothes I thought would suit you—obviously, since you're taller than me, they won't exactly _fit_, but they should accommodate … well, your _growth_ well enough. See if you make do with these until the end of the week, and we can go and get you your own clothes over the weekend ... or, if they don't work, I have tonight off, and I'm pretty sure you do too."

Like that, Carla places a hand on her hip and smiles, satisfied with her plan.

"Carla, have I told you recently that I love you?" I ask, getting choked up.

"Not nearly enough, my friend. Not nearly enough."

* * *

The black trousers I've chosen to wear are a little too short, I note as I walk towards the hospital, but at least they, and the green sweater, don't show off my bump too much. Even so, as I enter the lobby, I cringe self-consciously, terrified for a second that everyone will start staring at me—me, the unmarried pregnant girl.

"Good morning, Dr. Reid!" Shirley chirps politely from behind the desk. Her eyes zero in on my stomach and her wolfish grin grows, "You look … pretty, today."

I blink once, before stuttering, "Thank you?"

I clock in and get in the elevator, somehow not surprised to see the new Chief of Medicine inside.

"Morning, Perry!" I greet enthusiastically. He's flicking through chart in his hands and only nods in acknowledgement. I wait a beat, before persisting.

"Do you … notice anything … _different?_"

"Your voice is a lot less squeaky," he replies instantly.

"_Dr. Cox!_"

"Oh. Now it's back."

I just roll my eyes—part of me _did _expect the sarcasm—before doing something that I would later blame on the hormones: I reach over, pull his hand away from his papers, and slam it onto my stomach.

"_What the hell … ?!_"

"I'm _showing_, Dr. Cox," I point out, gesturing to my stomach with the hand _not _pressing his into my stomach, "Isn't this exciting? It just makes it … " I ponder how to phrase this, "You know, so …"

"More real?" he suggests uncertainly, eyes glued to my belly. And he's right; this kid isn't just a bundle of tiny cells now. It's alive—it's _growing_.

"Yeah," I whisper, a ghost of a smile flitting across my face. However, before much else can happen, the elevator doors ping open, and Turk stands there, eyebrows raised at the sight of us. I freeze, staring at him as I came back to my senses. _Are we still in the elevator? Is his hand still on my bump? FRICK._

"Should I come back later?" Turk asks with a knowing smirk, to which Perry replies with a raised eyebrow.

"What's the matter, Gandhi? Never walked in on a man being forced to touch a woman's stomach before?"

"Very clever," I snarl, removing my hand and allowing him to snatch his back. He exhales irritably, but I can see the twinkle in his eyes that leads me to believe that he isn't _that _mad.

"Good morning to you too, sir," Turk quips sarcastically as he steps in, before double-taking when he sees me, "And helloooooo, baby bump!"

"Really? I didn't notice."

"My, my!" Perry exclaims, "This elevator is _overrun _with sarcasm today, isn't it, boys and girls?"

"You're one to talk," I point out jokingly, "Most of the things you've _ever _said to me are sarcastic! And, occasionally, mean."

Occasionally? I scoff; I must be feeling indulgent today.

"Maybe you're just getting soft in old age," he retorts, as though reading my mind. My jaw drops in mock indignation, before I chuckle quietly and shake my head.

All this time, Turk watches our banter—yes, there's no other word—with interest; however, he's clearly _not _planning on being part of the conversation. It's more like he's … _assessing _us, perhaps? But my mind cannot draw any possible reason for him to do so. What conclusion could he draw?

I decide not to pay any mind to it—after all, I've just cleared _this _particular hurdle. I don't need a surprise one popping up on the track.

Unfortunately, it was not to be so.

* * *

"Wow," JD says as I approach him, smiling like a Cheshire cat, "You've started to show already?"

"Well, I'm sixteen weeks along—isn't that normal?" I inquire, leaning on the counter, "When did Kim start to show?"

JD's own smile falters and fades, as he averts his gaze to the counter. Mentally, I kick myself when I remember that he was not there to watch Kim's pregnancy progress.

"JD, I'm sorry," I mumble, reaching over to rest my hand on his shoulder, "I forgot. It was a mistake."

"It's okay," he replies, quirking his lips slightly, "Besides, I think that's normal too; forgetfulness in pregnancy. Your short-term memory is effected by the extra amount of blood volume your body's pumping out for the baby," then, at my surprised look, he quickly clarifies, "Um, I read that in one of the baby books I bought when Kim and I decided to keep Sam."

"Oh … " I smile sweetly at this picture: JD, hunched over _What To Expect When You're Expecting_, imagining what his baby will be like at each stage in the book, "Oh, hey, could I borrow a few of your books? I just think that it's about time I start preparing, you know?"

"You _and _Dr. Cox?" he says bitterly. I just stare at him, confused by his sudden change in mood. A moment ago, he seemed so peaceful, when we were just talking about our children (or future children), but at the mention of Perry … what the hell is his problem?!

"JD," I snap coolly, "If you have something to say, _say it_."

JD hesitates, unable to meet my eyes. I don't notice this, since I'm already gearing up for a rant of my own.

"Ever since I told you I was pregnant, you've been acting so weird: always looking miserable, asking me to lunch and talking to me _all the time_, getting all mad whenever Dr. Cox is even _brought up _around you … and this is the man you _worship!_ Do you have a problem with me or something?"

"_No!_" he cries, shaking his head, "No, Elliot, I don't. Actually, it's … sorta the … _opposite._"

"What?!" I hiss, eyes narrowed in annoyance. Finally, his eyes meet mine, and I see reflected in them a sickeningly familiar look … the same look I saw in his eyes all the time when I got back together with Sean.

_It should have been me_.

That almost kiss. His constant enthusiasm to see me. The wounded look in his eyes when I told him that Perry and I were going to have a baby.

"_It's just making me think about when we were younger. And about us."_

The realization is so strong, and so sudden, that I almost fall over.

"_If he still had feelings for me, he should tell me, not be stupid and hide it!"_

Oh. _Shit._

"Elliot … "

"Um, I—" I stammer, eyes wide and fixed on my friend, "I, I have to go … I have … I'm sorry."

Then I turn away and walk as quickly as I can. I can feel his eyes burning holes into my back, but I don't turn back.

This isn't supposed to happen. My best friend isn't—was _never_—meant to fall in love with me … and he especially is _not _meant to realize this when I'm pregnant with someone else's child.

I know that walking away will not solve anything, but …

This is one hurdle I can't clear right now.

* * *

**I suppose you're all thinking "WTF?!" right now, but I can explain. In the show, every time JD or Elliot begin to move on (e.g. when Elliot reunited with Sean, when Elliot got engaged, when JD went out with Alex in, like, Season 1), the other tends to decide they still have feelings … and the first one tends to reciprocate. This particular pattern was overused to the point of being annoying, in my opinion, but **_**c'est la vie.**_** Admittedly, it's mostly JD who regains these "feelings", which is why I thought the same would happen here. Plus, I just feel like this is the sort of things that, maybe, could jumpstart Cox into realizing his feelings for Elliot go beyond simply her being the mother of his child … ? ;)**

**Also, this totally happened in the book this is based on. The woman reunited with an ex-boyfriend while she was pregnant … however, she didn't let him know she was pregnant, and when she did, the relationship pretty much went downhill, lol. Anyway, the point of my whole ramble is … **_**don't hate JD**_**. I don't; he's too cute, except when he keeps going back and back to Elliot, until I'm yelling at the screen for him to move on, find someone else. To be honest, I've never liked Elliot, but I just find Elliot/Cox so adorable, and in fanfiction, I can evolve her character into someone I can stand, but who still relates to the Elliot we've all come to know.**

**Oh, and the Turk thing … I just love Turk. I want him to have a slightly bigger part. :)**

**So I apologize if any characters were OOC—and if my pregnancy information was wrong. I can't remember where I read the thing about blood volume, but I remember reading a comic in which one mother says to the other, "When you're pregnant, all of your brain cells go down to the baby," … lmao. And, about Elliot saying she's four months pregnant; well, the trusty internet (and my Maths) tells me that four months is around sixteen weeks. It depends on a woman's physical structure, but one seems to start showing usually around the fourth or fifth month (though some show earlier and some don't show until a few weeks before giving birth, and that doesn't mean anything is abnormal!). For Elliot, in my twisted fantasy world, it's sixteen weeks. That also means that it's been about four weeks since Elliot found out she was pregnant, and she has roughly twenty-four weeks to go … though really, that's up to the baby. ;D**

**Um, again, sorry about my rant here. Please review!**

**Oh, and the italicized quotes: Elliot's was from the flashback in Chapter 6, **_**My Bar Buddy**_**, and JD's was from Chapter 9, **_**Our United Front**_**. And by "constant enthusiasm", I meant, for example, the way he bounced up to her in Chapter 3 (**_**My Stages Of Grief**_**), and being so happy to be invited to lunch in Chapter 9. I'm sorry; I'm just trying to prove that this wasn't a random plot twist that I thought of ten seconds ago, but that hints at JD's feelings have been woven into the story. Maybe I'm just thinking too much. :D Thanks for reading.**


	14. My Admission

**Great news! I finally figured out what's going to happen between now and the end of the story – just needs a bit of tweaking. Oh, and sorry for the long, long, LONG delay—currently, I'm in America on holiday, so I've been busy with … uh, holiday stuff. :) Please enjoy! **

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Admission _

You know how, when I get worked up, my voice goes so high that it reaches a decibel that only dogs can hear? Well, it turns out that this is a billion times worse when I'm pregnant.

"CARLA! IneedyourhelpJDtoldmehelovedmeandIdon'tknowwhattododoIlovehimbutI'mpregnantwithsomeoneelse'sbabyandIdon'twannahurthimbutIdon'tthinkIlovehimand _I don't know what to dooooo!_"

Turk and Carla are silent for a few minutes after my tirade, wide eyes watching me fearfully, before Turk blinks and says, "I'm sorry, what?"

"JDTOLDME—!"

"_Calm_, Elliot. _Slowly_."

I take a deep breath, flapping my hands to cool myself off slightly, before trying again, "JD told me he loved me."

"_WHAT?!?!_"

"TURK!"

"STOP YELLING!"

"YOU STARTED IT!"

"Maybe you should _both _stop yelling," Carla snaps, glaring at Turk, before turning back to me, "JD told you he loved you?"

I nod miserably, "He said the reason he's been acting so weirdly is because he's _jealous _o-of me and Per—Dr. Cox."

Carla looks stunned, but Turk just looks like he was expecting this. My eyes widen, and I point accusingly at JD's best friend, "_You knew!_"

He frowns, genuinely confused, "Knew what?"

"You _knew _JD liked me again! He tells you _everything!_"

"He didn't say anything!" Turk insists, shying away from my and his wife's condemning glares, "Honestly! This is just what you guys _always _do! Whenever you start to show the _tiniest _signs of moving on, it's always _I love you! I love you too! No, wait, no I don't! We were on a break! No, we—_"

"That's _Friends_," Carla interrupts, while I fume, resisting the urge to tell Turk that my voice _does not sound like that_.

"Oh yeah," Turk smiles sheepishly, before sobering up, "I just didn't expect him to actually _do _it, you know? But the point is, he does love you, and you gotta decide how _you _feel about _him_. And it's not just you guys to consider—there's the kid too, _and _the kid's father."

"You mean Dr. C—"

"Don't remind me, cos I do _not _want those images in my head."

I don't say anything, absorbed in what Turk just said. He's right, it _isn't _just JD and I; there's Perry, and the baby. But why _shouldn't _I love JD? Sure, our attempts at a relationship in the past have proved unsuccessful, but I always assumed that, at the end of the day, he would be the one I wound up with—not _Dr. Cox_. After all, we have been dancing this same dance for years now, so it only seemed inevitable. So why, now that I have the chance to get back together with him, am I so reluctant?

"What do you think?" Carla presses, anxiously, "_Do _you love him?"

I hesitate, stammering, "I—I don't—I mean—should I?"

"That's up to you, Elliot; it's _your _life," she wisely tells me. I swallow, fiddling with my coat for a second. Getting back with JD seems like the natural, obvious thing—the _right _thing—to do … but, what if I don't want to be right?

"I don't know," I decide finally, "I don't know. I mean … I need to think; this is huge! I need t-to think about this."

Carla nods understandingly, and rubs my shoulder. I'm just about to leave the cafeteria, when Turk begins to speak again.

"You know what I think?"

"Turk," Carla smiles, its malice thinly veiled, warning him against trying to influence my decision, "She just said she needs to think—"

"I know, baby, but I'll just say," he replies, before looking up at me, "Maybe you should also talk to Dr. Cox. If you _do _get back together with JD, you need to know he doesn't have a problem with it. I mean, his opinion _does _count; after all, he _is _your kid's …" he trails off, looking disgusted, before grudgingly finishing, "… _father_."

I purse my lips, considering this advice, before nodding, "You're right—you're really _right_. Thanks, Turk!"

I don't miss Turk's victorious look at his put out wife, before I turn on my heel, striding purposefully in the direction of Perry's office.

* * *

"Perry, I need to talk to you!" I exclaim, as I burst into the room.

"Not now. Very busy," he mutters, staring intently at his computer screen.

"What are you doing?"

"… playing a game?"

I scowl, "Perry, _please?_"

Perry drops the mouse and leans back, "Is it the baby?"

A part of me cheers that that's the first thing he thought of, but … "No."

"Then I'm not interested."

"Perry," I persevere, "Would you have a problem if I were to … date?"

"_Date?!_" he repeats, eyebrows shooting up.

"Yeah; you know, going out. Getting a boyfriend. Sex."

At the last word, he cringes, "Please tell me this is one of those crazy hormone thingies."

"Nooooo," I reply, sighing; I'd better cut to the chase, "I'm considering getting back together with JD."

His face remains carefully expressionless, but I can see the shock in his eyes, "Carol?!"

"Mmm, yeah. But it's _JD_."

I'm not sure why I'm so irritable. Maybe it's because I'm sick of hearing him degrade the man who adores him, or maybe because I want him to really _react_. Maybe I want him to tell me that I can't date, especially not JD, because that's _his _kid in there and I'm _his_…

Or maybe I'm getting carried away.

"He, it's just, he admitted that he likes me again," I continue, "And I'm not sure that I _don't _like him … soooo, what do you think?"

Perry is silent for a few minutes, his eyes flitting everywhere _but _at me as he fiddled with a pen on his desk. I wait patiently as he deliberates, unable to relax when I'm so _anxious_.

After a short while, his face hardens and he frowns up at me, "Why should I care?"

… _what the friiick?!_

"What?" I squeak.

"It's your life, Barbie," he tells me, shrugging noncommittally as he returns to his computer screen, "_I'm _not gonna be the one having pasty lesbian sex with Betsy, after all. If you wanna date him … date him."

My jaw drops, "What, that's _it?!_"

"Yeeeeah, Barbaroo, that's it."

"But … but …!" I can hardly speak, too stunned to. Doesn't he care? I mean, I'm not expecting him to care about what _I _do (am I?) but I'm still having his kid, "Dr. Cox, I'm pregnant! Doesn't that concern you at all?!"

Perry's eyes flit back up to mine, and we just stare at one another for a minute. Then, abruptly, he jumps to his feet, looking angrier than I think I've ever seen him, "Concern me? _CONCERN _me?! You don't think I'm a _little _worried about the mother of my _child _getting freaky with other men? Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoy your and Annie's annual pasty-lesbian-sex parties as much as the _next _guy, but don't cha think that while you're pregnant with _somebody else's _kid, it mightbe a re-_heally _stupid move? Because you and Newbie are just gonna go through the motions and end up hating each other—_again_—but this time, there's a kid involved. _My _kid! And though you and Newbie may find your hook-ups exciting, it's beginning to get repetitive, which begs the question: why would you put yourself through that again? Cos believe it or not, Elliot, it wouldn't be fair to me, you, or Newbie, and it damn well won't be fair to our kid."

At the end of his tirade, Perry is red-faced and breathing heavily, while I'm completely speechless. Well … I got what I wanted, didn't I? But why do I still feel unsatisfied—and just a little bit _hurt?_

"The baby," I begin, furrowing my brow, "You're worried about … the baby."

"Yes!" he exclaims, "Come on; I know I'm not the most _emotional _guy, but you've gotta believe that I care about my _child!_"

He doesn't understand. I can already see how devoted he is to this baby, even if he would never admit it in a billion years … but … I was shamelessly fishing for evidence that maybe, he cared a little about _me_, which I'm obviously not going to get, and which I now feel awful for trying to get.

"Right," I murmur, bowing my head, "You're right. I'm sorry … Dr. Cox."

"Barbie … ?"

"I should go," I say quickly, "Um, thanks, I guess. See ya!"

I turn, and attempt to bolt for the door, but Perry physically steps in my path, grabbing my arms, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what's wrong _now?_"

"Nothing!" I cry, shaking my head furiously. It's strange—I _want _to cry, I _want _to start screaming until my voice reaches that impossible decibel; there's even a lump in my throat, but my eyes feel dry, and my voice flows out calmly. Is there such a thing as reverse hormones?

"Well, _something's _up," he says firmly, planting his hands on his hips, "Now don't mistake this for interest, but you're not leaving till you tell me."

I purse my lips at this rather contradictory statement, but choose not to call him on it; he'd just skirt around the subject again, as he always does, "It's nothing."

"Barbie, you're like an open book. Spill."

Okay, now he's getting on my nerves. Am I really that open, or can he just read me well?

"I don't know," my mouth seems to move of its own accord, words spilling out that I can't stop, "I just thought that … maybe, you … might be more upset about _me _than the baby."

This takes him by surprise, I see; his eyes widen, his mouth attempts to form words before he eventually splutters out, "_What?_"

Frick. I shouldn't have said anything. "Seriously, Perry, just leave it … "

"_Barbie_. What. Is it?"

Once again, the words just blurt out, "It's just … I mean, we're having a baby, and we've been getting so much closer—don't try to deny it, you let me call you _Perry_—and … well, ever since … that night …" unconsciously, my hand presses protectively to my stomach, "Well, I guess I just, sort of, kinda … like you. I mean, a _lot_. You know?"

Perhaps it isn't the most eloquent confession in the world, but I think I got my point across. From the way Perry averts his eyes, down towards our feet, I can see that he understands … yet, somehow, I don't imagine I will be getting an admission myself. My face flushes, as I realize the full weight of what I just did. How I put myself out there, only to be doubtlessly shot down. Double frick.

"Barbie …" he begins, but I interrupt him.

"I should go," I repeat quietly, before sidestepping him and striding once again toward the closed office door.

This time, he lets me leave.

* * *

… **ummmmm … ? Okay, it wasn't the BEST ending … and I'm pretty sure they were OOC (paranoid, I am?) but since it's twenty past two in the morning in America, I'm happy that the words weren't misspelled and the grammar was okay, lol. I need a bedtime. :)**

**I'm not sure when I can update again, but I promise it'll be quicker than this time. Please review!**


	15. My Opportunities

**Sorry for the delay. :) I probably shouldn't be writing this at eleven at night, but school starts on Monday (NOO!) and I may not have much time this weekend, so I decided to just get this up. Enjoy!**

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My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Opportunities_

I told him how I felt.

That's all I can focus on tonight, not the cheesy romantic comedy playing on my television screen. I know it's ridiculous to behave as though I were going through a break-up, when really all I did was make a fricking fool out of myself in front of my emotionally-absent boss. Who just so happens to be the father of my child.

Ah, the joys of life.

I huff to myself, digging my spoon into the tub of ice-cream on my lap. I feel an abnormal flutter in my stomach—like the thin wings of a butterfly beating. I attribute it to too much ice-cream, as I _have _been eating a lot over the past two days, and I'm almost certain that sixteen weeks is far too early to be feeling the baby's movements.

_The baby_. However childish it is, I can't help but blame the baby a little bit for my current problems. If I had never become pregnant, I wouldn't have fallen for Perry, and then humiliated myself. I wouldn't be in this stupid mess. For the first time, I begin to wish—just a little—that this kid didn't exist.

The moment this thought crosses my mind, I want to wish it back. I slam down my tub and wrap my arms around my stomach, tightly as though I could channel my regret down towards the baby. I don't wish that—how could I? This little human being has given my life purpose that I didn't realize it lacked. Regardless of its parentage (or its lack of an immaculate conception), I love this baby more than anything in the world. So much so that I _know _I need to sort out this mess with Perry … even if I just end up more distraught.

I'm so set in this motivation that I'm already up in my room getting dressed (due to an impromptu cheer-up shopping spree with Carla) before the first seed of doubt is planted in my mind. What if he doesn't want to talk to me? After all, Perry Cox isn't the most … emotional person in the world. If I arrive demanding a conversation about deep feelings, he'd probably break out the good scotch and mock me until I gave up and left. Plus, it's almost seven at night—he'd be at the bar by now, I imagine, and I definitely do not want an expressive talk while surrounded by laughing drunkards and cigarette smoke. _No_.

Nevertheless, I have to do it sooner or later, and I'd rather do it sooner. With this in mind, I descend the stairs, square my shoulders, fling open the door, and freeze.

"JD?" I exclaim, eyes widening at the sight of my soaked best friend on my doorstep.

"Elliot!" he stammers through chattering teeth, clearly uncomfortable under my shocked stare. In the midst of my problem with Perry, I'd forgotten that I had unresolved issues with JD—the man who, after all, started this all.

"Why are you wet?" is the first thing I can choke out. JD blinks at me.

"It's, er, raining," he replies, gesturing behind him to the heavy sheet of grey rain. I hadn't noticed the weather; only another reason to add to my "do it later" argument.

"C-can I come in?" JD asks, hugging himself, "The cold isn't good for my boys."

"Wha—oh." I stand aside and let him pass by him. He treads watery footprints into the house, which I try to ignore. I gently shut the door, and turn towards JD, "Do you, uh … want a towel?"

"It's not so bad," he replies, "The free shower just caught me by surprise."

I force a smile—which probably looks more like a grimace—before asking, "Why are you here, JD?"

"I wanted to talk," he says, shifting awkwardly, "About … what happened."

My jaw tenses—this isn't really something I want to deal with right now. Why would I look forward to hurting my best friend? "J—"

"I'm sorry," he blurts before I can finish, "It wasn't fair of me to dump all that stuff on you. Especially when you're … you know …"

"Pregnant?" I supply icily, folding my arms.

He shakes his head, and smiles sadly, "Actually, I meant … you getting the hots for Dr. Cox."

I jerk in surprise, "_What?!_"

"No offense, Elliot, but it was _kind of _obvious," he admits, "I just didn't wanna see it because … well, like I said."

"I know," I dryly reply.

"But the thing is …" JD continues, sounding much more serious, "We've been playing this game for so long now and … we know where it ends up."

_Why does everyone keep saying that?!_, I wonder in frustration, _Am I the only one who doesn't notice?_

"Anyway …" he adds, oblivious to my own inner-monologue, "I know that you're probably gonna get _really _mad when I say this, and I know it's going to take a while for everything to be okay again but," he hesitates, before meeting my eyes, "I think it would be better—in the long term—if, you know … wewerejustfriends."

The last sentence runs together, so it takes a minute for it to register in my brain, "Wait … you _don't _want to get back together?"

"Nooo…" JD confirms sheepishly, and hastily adds, "I _did_. I mean, before I knew you were pregnant. And I sort of did _after _too … but after what happened, I sort of began thinking about the last seven years and how _complicated _it all became. And it's even worse now, since there's the baby and Dr. Cox to think about too … so I just thought, _Why go through that again?_ I think …" he pauses, fiddling with the hem of his soaked coat, before murmuring, "I don't want to lose our friendship, Elliot. And if we get back together, well, we're going to lose that, and so much more. Not to mention my _godfather-ship_…" a pointed look, and then he's back on track, "Anyway, I just can't do that to you, or myself, or Dr. Cox. So … I think we can be really good friends again. Without, you know, having to fall in love."

He looks quite proud at his speech, but I can't say the same. All I can think is: _So he tells me he loves me, forces me to admit how I feel to Perry, puts me through EMOTIONAL TURMOIL and then decides we should just stay friends?_

I'm so furious I don't even consider the fact that he decided this for the good of everyone, my child included. I just want to _strangle him_.

"You frickin' son-of-a—"

Before I can insult his mother, I break myself off, instead opting to lunge at him. He looks horrified, and raises his arms with an unmanly squeak to defend himself. There's no need though; I don't have the physical desire to do anything more than slap at his chest and shoulder for a minute.

"You! Couldn't! Have! Said! This! Before?!" I yell, punctuating each word with a smack, before standing back, fists clenched at my sides, "Maybe then, I wouldn't have made a fricking _FOOL _out of myself!"

Then, for no reason other than I feel like it, I burst into tears.

JD's eyes widen, but he quickly wraps an arm around my heaving shoulders, cautiously patting my back and whispering, "There, there …"

I suppose I can't blame him. I _did _just freak out at him. After a few minutes, my sobs slow and eventually cease, and I bury my head in JD's chest.

"I'm sorry, JD," I mumble tearfully, wrapping my arms around him, "It's n-not your fault …"

"What happened, Elliot?" he asks uncertainly. I struggle to force words around the newly-grown lump in my throat.

"I—made—a—fool—out—of—myself!" I wail, squeezing him tighter. He chokes a little above me.

"So I hear," he croaks, his own grip loosening, "Elliot, can you—?"

"_I'm such a fricking idiot!_" I cry, ignoring him. It's only when he gasps for air that it occurs to me that I may be holding him too tightly.

"Thank you," he wheezes when I step back. Then he looks me square in the eye, "What happened?"

I sniffle and wipe my eyes, before mumbling, "I told Dr. Cox that I … liked him."

"… oh."

"Yeah. Oh." I sigh, and fold my arms, feeling my face crumble again, "When is it _ever _gonna work out for me?"

JD shifts, once again uncomfortable, "Elliot, maybe I'm not the best—"

"You wanted to be 'good friends', didn't you?!" I snap, and instantly wish the words back, "JD, I'm sorry. I know your intentions are good."

His hurt melts away and he smiles, "I know. And you know what? Dr. Cox doesn't know what he's missing."

I scoff, "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!" he agrees firmly, "He has the chance to be with a _beautiful _woman … and have a loyal, loving best friend with great hair …"

"Er, JD?"

"Oh, sorry," he grins guiltily, "Anyway, if he's too stubborn to see an amazing opportunity for a _real _family, then it's _his _loss."

I smile, before shyly asking, "Are you sure about just being friends, JD?"

JD looks at me, _really _looks at me, as though considering the chance he himself may be throwing away. For a second, I indulge myself in a picture of what life would be like if I did choose him—a huge white wedding; a sweet dark-haired, blue-eyed baby; a long, happy life with my best friend.

But then there was that child in the background, with the cocky grin and the curly red hair, and I realize that picking JD would be discarding an even _bigger _opportunity.

"Yes," his voice breaks me from my reverie, "Yeah. I think I'm sure. After all, that's what you were going to say—isn't it?"

I nod. After all, I can't lie to my one of my best friends. Then, I step forward, into his open arms, and hug him tightly (though not so tight that I cut off his air supply). For a moment, I have no worries; I have the greatest friend in the whole world, and a healthy baby on the way. I couldn't be happier.

"Does this mean that I'm godfather?"

"Shut up, JD."

Of course, my world isn't limited to JD, or my unborn child. There's the hospital, lying inevitably on the horizon. And there's a certain red-headed man with a habit of worming into my thoughts.

A red-headed man who just so happens to burst through my front door at that minute, and who understandably misinterprets the scene in front of him.

_Uh-oh_.

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**…YEEEEES. Finally finished! –punches air– Of course, it's been over a week since I started this chapter, so I reeeeeally failed on this. O.o But I'm pretty proud of this, so I hope you guys enjoy it! **

**By the way ... yes, I changed my penname. It's a lyric from the musical _Wicked_, which is my current obsession. But I hope there's no confusion! A****nd please let me know if you have any constructive criticism. Sorry for the delay, and thanks for reading!**


	16. My Train Of Thought

**Sorry for the three week (give or take) delay, guys! I've been getting back into the school routine, dealing with relatives coming over for random visits and the proverbial boatload of homework I've been getting as of late. I've also been working on something called a "Personal Project"—a huge project that every tenth grade student in Sweden has to pass in order to advance. In other words, pure, time-consuming, evil. Anyway! Please enjoy this chapter and let me know if you have any criticisms. :)**

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My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Train Of Thought_

There is a terrible, _terrible_ moment, during which the three of us can only stare at one other. Perry stands in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob and all momentum drained from his body as he takes in this scene. I, still held securely against JD's chest, gape at the man, unable to believe that God hates me _this _much. JD, and I give him this, is the only one who doesn't look slightly ridiculous; he glances between Perry and I with a calm I didn't know he possesses, before courteously loosening his arms and stepping away from me, smiling warmly.

Then, he attempts to make a break for it.

"Not so fast, Sheila," Perry growls as JD tries to slip past him and through the door. He sticks an arm out and hooks JD in as he runs. With a yelp, JD is flung back towards me, but manages to regain his footing before he can trip over himself.

Then, we are back where we started: JD and I standing sheepishly side by side, and Perry glaring at us from the doorway, like a father who just returned home to his teenage daughter fooling around with the neighbor's son—the older, freaky one with the tattoos and piercings, that is.

God, I'm glad that that metaphor isn't reality. How messed up would that be? Besides, JD doesn't _have _piercings or tattoos … or does he? I mean, it's been a while…

"Hey, Barbie!" a whistle yanks me out of my own ramblings and I focus back on the present.

"Perhaps, I wasn't clear enough earlier," Perry snarls, eyes flitting between the two of us as he flicks his nose and crosses his arms, "You see, if I wasn't so sure that you guys are just gonna get everyone hurt again by starting this whole stupid cycle again, well gosh darn it, I would just turn down the lights, throw on some Barry Manilow and let you kids go _nuts_—so to speak—but, you know, I happen to have seen this whole dance three or four _hundred _times in the past seven years. So I already know what's gonna happen. Only this time, it's different! It's—"

"Perry," I interrupt, desperate to stop him before he starts ranting, "Please, it's not like that. We weren't—"

"Oh, really, Barbie? Because you two were looking _awfully _cosy when I walked in here …"

"It's called a hug," JD inputs, "Maybe you would know what one was if you let me _give you one _once in a while!"

Perry turns his terrifying gaze on him, and he shrinks away, "Or not …"

"No-one asked you to talk, Joanna," Perry snaps.

"Dr. Cox, please," JD implores the older man, "We were just talking, and we agreed that—"

"You're doing it again! Just keep going, Newbie, dig a deeper grave. I don't mind."

"We aren't back together, Perry," I tell him softly, and his eyes flash back to mine. There's a moment as we just _look _at one another—our gazes locked, and for a millisecond there is nothing else—before an uncomfortable JD blurts, "Can I go now?"

Perry scowls at him, "Are we done?"

"… noooooo…"

"Then no, you may not."

"We _were _just talking," I explain, stepping forward, "And we agreed that it would be better for us—for _everyone_—if we were just friends. I promise you, it was nothing more. Okay?"

His expression has softened remarkably, and for a moment, I feel almost proud. After all, how many other people have been able to calm down _Percival Cox _with just a few quiet words? Ha ha.

"That's all?" he repeats, one eyebrow rising.

"Yes."

He is silent for a few extra seconds, as if he is trying to decide whether or not I'm being truthful. Clearly, he decides that I am, because he barks, "_Newbie! _Go!"

"Yessir," JD squawks, and bolts out the front door. A moment later, however, his head pops back around, "Is there any chance that I can still be—?"

"GO!"

He squeaks, and vanishes again—perhaps he sees as clearly as I do that his chances of being godfather have diminished considerably—leaving me alone with Perry. Around six months ago, this prospect would have scared the hell out of me, but now … I don't know. By now, I feel as though I've experienced every low I can with this man, and now the only things left to experience are the highs.

"What are you doing here, Perry?" I ask gently, stepping towards him until he is only an arm's length away.

"What do you think? I was saving my kid from whatever mistake I thought you were making," he replies bluntly, "And now that I see you _aren't_, I'll just—"

"Nuh-uh," I hold up a finger, a smile tugging the corners of my mouth; _I've figured you out_, "I don't think that's why."

That damned eyebrow seems to drift even higher up his forehead, "Oh? Then what is?"

Despite his posture, I swear I hear his voice tremble slightly. It's close—so close, I can almost taste it … what I didn't realize I've wanted for months now.

"It's about what I told you, isn't it?" I ask, tilting my head inquisitively. He stiffens, and starts to step back.

"Don't do this, Barbie," he murmurs pleadingly. His teeth grit and his eyes narrow and I can't tell whether he's angry, or trying to fight it. Whatever it is, _I'm _done fighting.

"Just tell me the truth," I beg him, reaching out my hands and grasping his shoulders, "Please. Just … tell me how you frickin' feel, okay?! And if you don't feel what _I_ feel, then, that's fine, but I just want to know _the truth _so that I can move on!"

His jaw tightens even more and his nostrils flare. We're close now—_unbelievably _close—so close that I can feel his breath, coming out in short, angry bursts, on my face. I search for any sign of emotion in his face, but it seems like every single one is flitting across it and I can't pin one down as what he feels. It's like he's fighting a losing battle.

Then, just as I'm about to move away, he grabs my face in his hands and crushes his lips against mine.

It isn't the most romantic kiss in the world. Every muscle in his body is tense; my arms are dangling by my sides after I release him in shock; and the force of his mouth against mine is incredible. It seems more about desperation than romance or pleasure. Maybe, it occurs to me, he's just as afraid about whatever we have as I am. I just need to show him that we don't need to be scared. The next couple of months are going to be rough, with the baby coming, but strangely enough, my future seems less scary if he's in it—he being the scariest man I know. I'm weird, aren't I?

So, despite trembling, my arms reach up, and hesitantly wrap around his neck. It might be the sensation of my giving my all to the kiss, or maybe it's my very cold hands, but the transformation is amazing. He pauses, and then relaxes against me, as if this is his way of accepting me … accepting _us_. One hand moves to wrap around my waist and pulls me closer. I smile unconsciously against his lips; _ha ha ha. _I love being right.

Unfortunately, the need for air crops up far too quickly, and Perry pulls away, breathing heavily. I feel my skin flush under his intense gaze, but I hold his gaze.

"Wow," I eventually breath, blinking hard, "I, uh … I think that really says it all."

"Uh-huh," he agrees. However, he doesn't release his hold on me—if anything, he pulls me tighter against his body and I melt a little, resting my head on his chest.

"Does, er…" Perry stammers, clearly trying to get a grip on his train of thought, "What does this … _mean?_"

I just shake my head and curl my arms around his waist, "Do I _have_ to think right now?"

I hear—and feel—him sigh, before he replies, "We can't just put this off. The baby won't wait, will it? And I don't want to be still deciding when it's born, Barbie."

I scowl, "What happened to calling me _Elliot?_"

"Really, I thought by now, you would see that Barbie is … sort of a term of endearment."

Giggling, I ease back so that I can see his face, "Perry, I really want this to happen."

He sighs again, and brushes a strand of hair from my face with an uncharacteristic gentleness, "Me too, Elliot. Trust me, you have no idea. But…" he hesitates, before barreling on, "In case you haven't noticed, I haven't exactly … dated, in a while. Not seriously since I tried again with Jordan."

I wrinkle my nose and he pulls a face, as we both remembered that train wreck.

"Anyway, I know it's gonna be a lot different with you, Barbie," Perry continues, "But I don't want to rush it and risk everything. Especially not with …" he breaks off suddenly, and lays a hand against my round abdomen. I smile unconsciously, and then reach up and lightly press my lips to his.

"We won't," I tell him, "In case _you _haven't noticed, I'm not the … best … at relationships."

"Trust me, Barbie; it was hard _not _to notice what with the never ending string of—"

"You get the point," I interrupt before he can bring up my past, "What I'm saying is … I know I can be slightly crazy—" he scoffs, which I pointedly ignore, "—and you can be a little … psychotic, but I'm willing to work on it if it means we at least get a chance, you know? And I _know_ that you do get annoyed by me sometimes, and trust me, I get annoyed by you, but I think if we're just more open, and we try to overcome our stupid commitment phobias, then maybe—"

I realize that my meaningful sentiment is beginning to turn into a rambling spiel, which Perry promptly cuts off with a kiss that sends me reeling. When he pulls away again, I struggle to remember what I was talking about.

"What was I saying?" I mumble, innocently blinking.

"I believe," he muses, mouth very, _very_ close to mine, "that we weren't going to say anything at all."

My lips curve into a smile, "Well said."

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…**gah! OOC, yes? **_**–headdesk-**_** But still, we're on the right track, right? No matter how OOC they were. **_**–sigh—**_**I can't win … anyway, I hope you enjoyed anyway, and sorry the wait was so long. Please review!**


	17. My Little Secret

**Once again, I have epically failed with updates, and the only thing I can give is my bottomless regret, my worthless apologies (which, I imagine, will not be able to even begin to heal your psychological trauma from my lack of updating) and my heartfelt hope that I still have readers out there. In other, less melodramatic words, SORRY! :D And thanks so much for last chapter's reviews, I do appreciate them. Of course, do any of you remember the last chapter? Or was it so long ago that your memory has begun to fade…? ;)**

**Enjoy, and please review, especially if you have any con-crit! Oh, and sorry if anybody suffers from heart attacks after reading the first few paragraphs. Heeheehee…**

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My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Little Secret_

I haven't been able to sleep all night.

It must be around three or four, and I am hopelessly exhausted after a trying day at work, yet I cannot fall asleep. My stomach groans and clenches painfully as the child inside cartwheels and I twist in my sweat-soaked sheets in an attempt to get comfortable. I _want_ to get up and see if this relieves the agony, but my legs are heavy and useless, almost as if they are not mine. I don't feel right in my own body, but I cannot escape.

My stomach heaves again, only this time it is accompanied by a terrible ripping sensation. I feel a gush of liquid on the bed. Are my waters breaking? No! It's too early; the baby can't come now! Fearfully, I reach down and press my hand against the linens under me. In the moonlight, my fingers shine red.

Against my will, every muscle in my body begins pressing down. I am desperate to get this _thing_, whatever is within me, out. For surely, it can't be a baby. It is a well-known fact among the people I know that I will never have a baby. _No_.

Gritting my teeth, I begin to weep tears of pain and terror as something slips out of me. There is no newborn cry, nor a feeling of relief or joy in my gut. But suddenly, my body becomes mine again, and I dare to lift my head and see what has just evacuated me.

Scaly, slimy, covered in birthing fluids and utterly reptilian, a creature unlike anything I have seen crouches between my legs. With a snarl that looks almost like a smile, it cracks open its jaw and _sinks its teeth deep into my thigh…_

My eyes pop open and I unknowingly release the breath I was holding. The sweat on my body is making my shirt cling to me and my hair stick to my flushed forehead. But I touch my stomach and feel the curve that I am now so accustomed to. It was a dream. Well, a nightmare, but the point is, it isn't real.

With a sigh of relief, I attempt to roll over, but something bars my movement. Momentarily I panic, and start trashing, afraid that the nightmarish lizard is still haunting me. But…

"Wouldja stop that?" a sleepy voice grumbles thickly, and I freeze. Abruptly, my surroundings come rushing back to me.

I'm not in my bed. I'm not in my house. I'm not even in my _shirt_. In fact, it's a plain grey shirt that is far too long and baggy for me, even though the owner has a reputation for wearing tight shirts.

"Perry," I murmur, calming down instantly.

"Who else would it be?" he asks, and then flops onto his back, releasing me from his arms. I whine a little and attempt to move towards him. His hold was something of a comfort, protecting me from the horrible monsters lurking in my mind.

"I had a nightmare," I tell him pathetically, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Do you want me to ask? Cos it's too early for long conversations…" Perry replies, and closes his eyes. I stare unblinkingly at him for a moment, before he groans, "Fine, but you don't talk again for the rest of the night."

"It was weird," I begin falteringly, "It was like I…gave birth to a monster."

Even in the darkness of his room, I sense him stiffen, and hear the rustle of his pillow as he turns his head to me, "Barbie."

"There was blood everywhere," I continues, frenzied and ignoring his protests, "And there was this _thing_ where there should've been the baby, and it…um, it tried to eat me."

He laughs, effectively cutting me off, "Come _on_, Elliot, that isn't gonna happen."

"Well, it _FELT _realistic!" I snap. I try to flip away from him in a huff, but at six months, my stomach is too huge to allow that. So I settle for an undignified slump onto my own back and fold my arms over my expanded chest.

"Oh, give me a break," he sighs, leaning up on one arm, "Barbie, I don't know what you think I am, but we didn't conceive a crocodile. It's a _baby_, okay, and you're gonna love it and it's gonna love you, okay?" then he shifts closer and rests a hand on my stomach, "This is just nerves. It's natural. Labour isn't going to be pretty, but the end is gonna be _amazing_. Got it?"

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say," I whimper, and drag his head down for a kiss. Perry almost overbalances and falls on top of me, but catches himself at the last minute and takes his weight on his arm.

"You've got to be kidding me," he exclaims as my kisses become more insistent, "Elliot, we've got to be getting up in, like, an hour and a half…"

"You're the Chief of Medicine," I point out before pressing my lips more firmly against his, "You're the boss now. You can't be late."

From his next actions, I'd say he agrees with me.

* * *

My relationship with Perry has been going on for a month or two now, and I really think we're growing stronger as a couple. However, we don't want to mess anything up, what with the baby coming and all, so we've not told anyone that we're together yet.

Besides, I don't want to see Carla get all smug.

The only person who knows is JD, and I think he's using his knowledge against Perry. The "sneak-hugs" have been becoming more common and yesterday he got Perry to _willingly_ sit with him at lunch. _Willingly_.

But, now the baby's coming in three months and—reassured that I won't be popping out any lizards—I feel confident enough to finally let everyone in on our little secret.

"What do you think?" I ask Perry one afternoon at the hospital. He frowns.

"What I always think of your ideas. _Bad._"

I scowl and step in closer, "What happened to listening to me now that I'm your girlfriend?"

Okay, that is _weird_. I never thought, in a billion years, that I would ever be Dr. Cox's girlfriend.

"Elliot," he hisses, "if everyone finds out that, not only am I becoming a father, I am in an _exclusive relationship_ with the mother—who claims to be one of the most friendly doctors in this dump—then they are going to assume that I am…_not untouchable_. And if they start trying to interact with me, I might … I might …"

"Actually make friends?" I suggest.

"I was going to say 'kill myself', but whatever floats your boat."

"Perry, they _will _find out eventually," I warn him, "so, how about this: we tell them together, as a unit, or _I _tell them _and _tell them that you cry in bed."

He frowns, "I don't cry in bed."

"They don't know that."

For a moment, we have a sort of face-off, glaring at one another, before he surrenders, "Fine, you win."

"I knew I would."

* * *

"You _fail._"

Clenching my fists, I turn towards him, "Perry, don't start."

I hope I look intimidating, but with a gigantic pregnant belly, I doubt it has much effect.

"You re-he-_heally _had me going there!" he crows delightedly, "When you said, _We have an announcement_, I actually thought you were gonna do it! And then …" he makes a noise like a buzzer, "You wimped out! I should've bet _money _on that!"

"Would you _stop it?_" I cry, and the baby gives a sharp kick in—what I hope is—agreement. I blow my hair out of my face and stomp on, but Perry strides to catch up.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. It's _funny_."

"I know," I admit, "It's just … we're having this kid, and we've been involved in what is probably the most stable relationship of our lives"—he shrugs in agreement—"and I just don't understand why it's so hard to tell people about it. I really want to, because I want my friends to know how…how happy I am—" holy frick, did I just tell him I was happy? Well, I am, so I'm being honest at least, but how do I know he won't run at the nearest sight of commitment and—oh, right, I should keep talking—"and it's so _fricking annoying _that I keep putting up these mental barriers!"

I hang my head momentarily, before looking up to meet his eyes, "Whatever we have, it's working, right? So it's okay."

Perry blinks at me, and then nods, "Okay."

We walk on in silence again. Our shifts have ended and Perry has no meetings, so we'll probably grab dinner (whatever I'm craving) and head back to my house, which is where we've been spending the majority of our time together. We'll leave as friends, and be a couple only in privacy. As long as it's working, it's okay.

And then Perry does the unthinkable.

Perhaps it's because he feels sorry for me, and wants to make me happy. Maybe he feels genuinely ready to come out about us. I never do find out his reasoning, as he always skirts around the answer. But whatever the motive, he reaches out and clasps my hand.

When I look over, he is perfectly natural, which of course makes it all the more harder for me to look natural. A giddy smile creeps over my face when I see an orderly drop a pile of bedpans in shock and the interns' mouths fall open. Is it really _that _surprising?

Apparently, not to Carla. By the time we get to the ground floor, Perry and I are flustered and red in the face after a make-out in the elevator and his arm is slung over my shoulders. As we pass her, she says nothing, but smirks and winks at me in a way that says, _I told you so._

For once, I don't mind that she's right.

* * *

**Eh, not my best, but hopefully it was okay ... As you can tell, there WAS a time leap in this chapter, as Elliot is now six months pregnant. I suppose the story was going too slowly for my liking, which is strange because normally I like to rush. :) Please review!**


	18. My Nervous Wreck

**Again, sorry it's been a while since updating. The end, I feel, is quite close, so I've been so busy thinking about the perfect end that I have no idea what to write in the murky middle. So, I'll just try and wing it, hmm? Oh, and guess what! I started watching Season 8, so now I'm a little more informed! Whoopee! Hee hee. Again, OOC-warnings. If you see any signs of OOC-ness, catch it in the net and report it to me. You will be properly rewarded. Yes, I have gone insane. Enjoy!**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Nervous Wreck_

"You know, Keith and Katie are going out."

I glance up from my daily staring match with the coffee pot to blink at Carla, "What?"

"Keith and Katie are together," she clarifies, nodding behind me to where the blonde intern and my former fiancé were studying a chart together. I cock my head. They don't _look _particularly lovey-dovey; Katie is clearly sleep-deprived, and Keith is staring intently at the patient to whom the chart refers. They look no different to regular colleagues.

Then again, neither did Perry and I.

"Okay," I reply, and return to the coffee staring, "When can I start—?"

"When the baby is born," Carla cuts me off and I pout. I have to wait six weeks …?

"Besides, did you not hear? _Keith_ and _Katie?_"

"What's the big deal?" I demand, "A lot of people hook up at work! You and Turk, me and JD, me and Keith, me and Perry … Carla, am I a work-whore?"

"The big deal is that you guys used to be in love," Carla points out, ignoring my question, "Are you seriously telling me there's _no _jealousy or bad feelings?"

What a weird question. "Okay, I am in _no _position to get jealous of Katie. I am very, _very_ pregnant," I say and gesture to my noticeably swollen abdomen, "and quite happy with Perry, thank you very much. Besides, Keith has a right to move on and be happy. If it's with Katie … whatever."

Carla's eyebrow arches, before she slumps, relieved, on the counter, "Thank _God! _You've finally matured! I swear to God, if I had to go through another phase of _Oh, he's moved on, now I want him back!_, I would have screamed."

Despite the tiny puff of pride I take in, I scowl, "I'm not always like that!"

Carla shrugs, "_Sometimes—_"

"I don't have time for this!" I interrupt, holding up a hand, "I'm meeting Perry for lunch."

Carla smiles at me, "It's good to see that you're not getting all petty and jealous anymore. Getting pregnant has really helped you," then she straightens, sobering up, "Speaking of which—"

"Nurse!" a shout stops her, and she spins to see Dr. Mickhead leaning out of a room, "We need you in here."

I see the emotions flit across her face—the need to tell me her news, and the need to help a patient—before her better side wins over, "Ugh! Fine!"

"I'll meet you later," I promise as she dashes away. With a happy nod, I march out of the ICU, giving a quick nod to Keith, who smiles weakly back.

Do you know that feeling, when it's like everything is going right for once? For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm actually going somewhere good, and I've reached the point where I no longer sabotage myself. I am heading down a good path, and _nothing _is going to trip me up.

Unfortunately, down the road, there is a root in the ground. A great, huge, ugly tree root known as my self-esteem.

And it's only being helped along by one Jordan Sullivan.

* * *

I exit the elevator on the first floor and turn left to head toward the cafeteria. I don't know if my feelings have made themselves obvious on my face, but as I walk, people smile at me, so I assume that I'm smiling as well.

That's okay though. I _feel _like smiling, so if anything, my grin only grows.

Until I forget to look before I round a corner and come face-to-face with what is known in layman's terms as a downer.

"Hey, Stick," Jordan smiles stiffly at me before her eyes dart down, "Wow, not so sticky anymore."

"Uh, Jordan," I squeak, my eyes widening. _Oh frick, I'm fricked. How exactly does one confront the ex-wife of the man whose spawn you currently nurture?_

Eventually, I just croak out a terribly unconvincing, "…hi," in response. Jordan rolls her eyes.

"Nice people skills. _Someone _gets out all the time," she says sarcastically, and I have to fight to keep my hormones under control, "Say, have you seen Per-Per? I hear he runs this dump now so I figured he could use a good let-me-down from his favourite person."

I see she hasn't changed in the couple of years since I last saw her. I, however, have, so I square my shoulders and prepare to deal with this like a mature, responsible adult.

"I—"

"Jordaroo!"

_Oh, thank God, Perry!_

The man in question storms up, his eyebrows raised in barely contained surprise, "I haven't seen _your _mug around this place recently. Tell me, what made you drag yourself out of your coffin to feast upon we mortals?"

Her smile tightens, "Well, I heard you're the boss now, so I just _had _to come and congratulate you! Now you're the chief with the sports car—what are you overcompensating for _now_, Per?"

_Nothing_, I think, before blushing. I don't really want to get flustered in front of Perry or Jordan—especially not Perry _and _Jordan.

"Well, then, why are you harassing Barbie?" Perry jerks his head to me, and I startle. I thought for a moment, they had forgotten I was here.

"Am I not allowed to talk to people now, Perry?" asks Jordan, "You got the whole hospital in the divorce too?"

"What can I say? I just love everyone," he replies. There is a pause … before they both laugh. They _laugh._

And my inevitable freaking-out begins.

_Oh my God, she still likes him! Oh my GOD, he loves her! How long has this been going on?! Behind my back?! Slut! Jerk! No—stop it, Elliot! Nothing is going on!_

"You haven't changed a bit," Jordan says, and there is a strange underlying emotion in her voice—something almost similar to … caring?

_The bastards. Frick, frick, frickedy-frick!_

"Stick, you okay?"

Jordan shakes me from my thoughts, and then I realize I've been gaping at them. I also have a feeling the blood has rushed from my face, because Perry looks really concerned.

"I'm fine!" I squeak, and Perry's shoulders relax. _God, he's cute. Stop that, he's cheating on you! _"I-I-I just need to lie down."

"You go ahead," Perry says, trying not to sound too gentle. We have an agreement that we would dial down the PDA at work so not to make too many people (read: Turk) uncomfortable.

I stomp away, feeling almost humiliated. Did he make that suggestion because he doesn't want to show me more affection than absolutely necessary? Does that agreement also include flirting with your ex-wife? Hmmph!

Something's wrong with me.

* * *

I'm at my house for the first time in weeks. The rooms are nearly unfamiliar, but not so strange that I feel unwelcome as I charge in after my shift, throw down my bag and fall onto the couch in a state of depression. Slouched there, my protruding stomach probably looks ridiculous. I'm a stupid, unattractive, eight-months-pregnant _whale_. Not even the father can bear to care about me.

Maybe I'm just being stupid, I reason. Maybe I'm doing what I always do and trying to poke holes because I'm scared. Or maybe I saw the way Perry and Jordan bantered and laughed, and got a glimpse into their shared history, and got genuinely _jealous_.

I lean to the right and pull my legs up, so that I'm lying down. I feel the baby move and place a comforting hand over my bump.

"We don't need him," I say confidently, "We can manage just fine, you and me. I already love you enough to know I'd do anything for you … I want to be a good mother, and I don't need your dad to let me know that I can be."

But it isn't as simple as that. I'm not with Perry because he is the father, or because he makes me feel confident in my abilities as a mom. I'm with him because somewhere along the way—maybe the way he "outed" us, or when he kissed me, or maybe even that night at the bar—I fell for him. _Hard_. And seeing him with Jordan made me realize that I might never make him as happy as he makes me.

Well, maybe that's what we need! After all, he _hates_ being happy. Perhaps it's good that he hates being with me.

That argument doesn't help. In fact, that argument makes me cry. Then the crying leaves me feeling pathetic, so I just cry harder. Finally, I just sigh and close my eyes, hoping that maybe if I go to sleep, I'll stop crying and everything will be much clearer.

* * *

It's the knocking on the door that pulls me back to consciousness. It's the sound of a key turning in the lock that truly wakes me up. I jump up just as the door swings open, and Perry enters, looking surprised when he sees me, the spare key I loaned him "just in case"in one hand.

"You're still awake?" he asks, and I neglect to tell him that he woke me up. I look at the clock, which reads midnight.

"Oh, well, I, um…" I struggle for a second, and then choke out, "Was waiting for you?"

An eyebrow shoots up as Perry closes the door and steps into the room, "I thought you'd be at my place."

"Well, I just wanted to stop by here," I reply, making an unnecessary gesture about me, "No place like home, heh heh."

"Elliot, is something the matter?"

Damn it, the man's good. I know attempting to pretend I'm fine would be useless, so I sadly state, "Yes."

He sighs and shrugs off his coat, "Then tell me, cos I've had a long day, and I don't want to fight for it."

I twist my shirt, before deliberately stalling, "Er, a patient died today."

Perry grins, "Remember what happened _last _time you got upset about a patient?"

As if on cue, the baby kicks.

Touché.

"Now, what's _really _wrong?"

He sets his hands on his hips and waits.

I try to resist the pull of his eyes, but eventually the truth bursts from my mouth.

"You and Jordan!"

Credit to him; he did look surprised. However, a moment later, he scowled, "You're upset about _that?_"

"Yes!" I cry; now that I've started, I can't stop, "At lunchtime, you guys were just … flirting! And it's obvious you get on _great_ and you actually _do_ have a lot in common and I just felt like a third wheel, because suddenly it didn't _matter _that you and I are having a baby, because _Jordaroonie_ was there, and it just became pretty fricking obvious to me that no-one will ever measure up to your fricking ex-wife, _especially not me!_"

There is a moment of stunned silence, as I catch my breath and Perry just stares at me, speechless. Then, a second later, he chuckles.

"Unbelievable," he mutters, running a hand through his hair, "Wow, Barbie, that was quite a rant. Clearly, I've been rubbing off on you."

I clear my throat. I _do not _like the sound of that _Barbie._

"Yet, it's also obvious that the more things change, the more they stay the same," he continues, stepping closer, "Because apparently, I'm still the same guy who doesn't give a crap about anything important and keeps running off to Jordan who, blood-sucker that she is, is, in fact, the only innocent in the situation. And apparently _you_ are the same neurotic mess whose relationships tend to have the duration of a piece of gum as you keep wrecking them by launching into your typical self-destructive tirades."

Okay, he's mad. _Really _mad.

"Okay, I confess!" Perry exclaim, throwing his hands in the air, "I…get along with my ex-wife," then he covered his mouth in mock-horror, "Oh, God, someone lock me away and throw out the key! I _talk _to the woman I _used _to sleep with!" Then he folds his arms, abruptly serious, "Note, Barbie, _used_. I _used _to sleep with Jordan, I _used _to destroy my relationships from the inside just. Like. You. But damn it, I have been trying to make this work, for you, for me and for the kid. I want this to work out, Barbie, because for the first time I'm sick of being unhappy. But it seems that I'm not sick enough, because of all the people I had to knock up, I knocked up the one woman who I could never, he-_ever_ be with!"

I reel back, like he's literally slapped me. Part of me whispers that I deserved it, I shouldn't have let my own neurosis get in the way of my—our—relationship.

But then there's the dominant part, the part that wants to burst into tears because I never wanted to hear it confirmed that Perry doesn't love me.

Evidently, he's as shocked as me. I can imagine a little voice in his own mind hissing, _Way too harsh._

"Barbie, I…"

I hold up a hand, and whisper the three words I don't want to say: "You should go."

There is a moment, the one chance I have to beg him not to leave. Then, Perry nods, repeats "I should go,"—though I don't know whether it's to himself or to me—and then grabs his coat and shoots out the door, slamming it behind him.

However, I don't break down. I don't immediately become a nervous wreck and run for the ice-cream in the fridge. I don't call Carla and wail down the phone about how I hate men. Because, really, I don't. Perhaps it's a sign of maturity, or perhaps it's the knowledge that I'm not giving Perry up that easily.

_Sooner or later_, I realize as I press a hand back to my stomach, _it'll work out for us._

* * *

**I have to get up in just over six hours. Acck! :P Anyway, I'm sure you guys are hitting your heads on something and thinking "Damn her and her stupid temporary plot twists!". Well, I assure you it will sort itself out soon. However, the inevitable make-up scene will have to wait until a very important character makes his or her entrance. Hint, hint. ;)**

**Anyway, you know the drill. Please review, and any con-crit will be appreciated, especially dealing with (you guessed it) OOC-ness! I sort of struggled with Perry, as I looked back over the whole story recently and felt that he didn't seem … right. I especially had trouble with the Jordan scenes, and their banter, because they're always so **_**sarcastic!**_

**Anywho, please review! :D**


	19. My Reconciliation

**Yay, this is the fastest I've updated in ages! :D So, since I don't need to spout excuses, all I can say is…enjoy!**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Reconciliation_

This _sucks_.

Even though I've basically convinced myself Perry will find his way back to me, I still found myself rushing over to Turk and Carla's—bear in mind that this is still the middle of the night—to cry about it. Currently, I'm curled up on the sofa in the fetal position (ironic, since I'm pregnant. _Ha-ha_) with a yawning Carla on the opposite chair. Turk is on call tonight, so I've only disturbed one person's rest.

"I just don't know what to do," I mumble miserably into my knees. Carla looks at me blearily.

"About what? Dr. Cox?" she asks in confusion, before attempting to straighten up, "What happened?"

I don't reply and instead burrow further into myself. Carla sighs.

"Elliot," she begins sternly, "If you won't tell me what the matter is, how can you possibly expect me to help?"

Lifting my head, I pout at her, "Perry and I had a fight…"

"Did he forget to use a coaster?"

"_No!_" I groan, and push myself up. The baby feels like it's pressing on my bladder and I can sense that soon, I'll need to excuse myself. "It was worse. And you know what really sucked?"

At that moment, she gives a particularly large yawn. In a mixture of exhaustion and hormones, I misinterpret and, despite myself, feel anger bubbling up in the pit of my stomach. Frick.

"Am I _boring _you?" I demand, scowling. She looks understandably surprised.

"_What? _No! Elliot, it's _twelve-thirty._"

Unfortunately, twelve-thirty and heavily pregnant isn't a time when I'm exactly rational. I practically see red as I exclaim, "You're meant to be my best friend! And I'm trying to tell you about the potentially life-ruining event that happened tonight, and you're frickin'—!"

"Well, maybe if you didn't shut me out so much," Carla responds hotly, "I'd be more willing to listen."

"Excuse me?!"

"Ever since you got pregnant, you've been _so _absorbed in what's happening in _your _life," she snaps, and stands up, drawing herself to her full height—as it were, "It's been all _baby this, Perry that, JD that_ and sometimes I wonder if you even care about this friendship anymore! You never talk to me, but when the _slightest _thing goes wrong, you storm in here—at _STUPID TIMES OF THE NIGHT_—and expect me to comfort you?" then she takes a deep breath, looking more upset than angry, and I feel guilt beginning to drown out the fury, "I'm pregnant again. Did you know that? Nope, because I never got a word in edgeways."

I struggle to my feet, and take Carla in for what feels like the first time in weeks. _Pregnant? _

"You're pregnant too?"

"Yeah," she nods, and fidgets a little, suddenly rather uncomfortable. We lapse into an awkward silence as I try to figure out what to say next.

Well, I guess she has a point. After all, I've been so caught up in how hectic my life has become that I haven't had time to just see how she's been doing. And this is _Carla_—my best friend!

There is also some satisfaction in knowing that as I lose my weight, she will gain it, but this is neither the time nor place. Besides, if I _do _ever tell her that, she'll probably kill me.

"Okay!" Carla explodes and I jump out of my skin, "I shouldn't have said _all _of that! I know things haven't been easy lately for you, and the baby's due next month, but sometimes it would be nice to know you still _care?_"

"Of course I do!" I wail, as tears swim in my eyes, "I'm sorry I've been such a bad friend!"

"I'm sorry too!" she cries, and suddenly, we're both in tears and each other's arms. Carla's in an awkward position from trying to accommodate my stomach, and I don't want to lift her off her feet in enthusiasm but we make it work.

I don't even realize how hard we're sobbing until Isabella starts to scream from the next room.

Carla and I pull away as she wipes her eyes and darts into Izzy's room. A minute later, she returns with an equally teary-eyed Izzy on her hip. Seeing the baby, with Carla's curly hair and Turk's big brown eyes, immediately made me well up again.

"I can't _believe _you're having another baby!" I grin, resisting the urge to jump up and down in excitement—in my condition, it would probably be more harmful than helpful, not to mention would make me look _ridiculous._

"I know!" she grins and hugs Izzy closer. Apparently, our argument and ensuing reconciliation has properly woken her up, because she flops onto the couch and stares at me with alert eyes, "Come on then; tell me what happened with Dr. Cox."

I shake my head, "No, Carla. It's late and I…"

"I'm awake anyway," she points out even as Izzy begins to doze off against her chest, "And I'm craving some macadamia nuts now, so I'm not going to sleep for a while. Besides, you're my best friend and you need me, right?"

"Yeeeeeah," I admit, and she gets that pleased expression she _always _gets when she knows she's needed.

"Well, fine. You see, at the hospital today…"

* * *

"Hey, Barbie,"

My head snaps up at the familiar voice, and I struggle to reign in my hidden hurt as I look up into Perry's face, "Oh, well, look who's dragged himself away from the bureaucratic work for the first time in two _weeks_."

His face contorts in distain, "I spent so many hours in there writing that I very almost asked Ted if I could borrow his gun. However, I am now paper-work free for the next year."

Despite myself, I smile. I know full-well why he spent more time in his office or hidden away in his patients' rooms: to avoid _me_.

"How's Junior?" he asks, gesturing to my stomach and flipping open a chart. I can't believe how cavalier he's acting!

"Fine," I squeak, as my bottom lip begins wobbling. Does he even care at—?

"Listen, Elliot," Perry cuts off my train of thought, "I just wanted to explain what happened … that day."

I purse my lips and turn back to my own chart, "Ms. Ellis is responding well to chemo, I see … "

"Barbie, _seriously_," he growls, "Just because Jordan and I get on does na-_hawt _mean I'm gonna run off with her. Besides, I _did _end up telling her about you."

I did not expect _that_. My head snaps up and my eyes widen when I see the sincerity on his face, "You what?!"

"She was drilling me about my latest dominant dark-headed sex buddy," he said dryly, "so I merely informed her that you were exactly the opposite."

"I appreciate it," I mutter sarcastically.

"And, of course, that you were pregnant."

I frown, "Why didn't you tell me that then?"

"I was _going _to, but you sort of threw me off with your assumptions," he replies, "And I'll admit, I lost my temper. But over the last few months, I guess I also assumed that you _knew_ I wasn't that sort of guy. And I thought that you were confident enough to …" he hesitates, before suddenly throwing his hands in the air, "Oh, _God_, I'm starting to sound like Newbie!"

_Noooooooo! He was doing so well!_

"Confident enough to what?" I press, my grip on the chart tightening.

Perry stares at me, before eventually deciding on, "Trust me."

My earlier excitement dies away, and my shoulders slump, "Oh."

Perry nods and we both avert our gazes, suddenly uncomfortable. I become aware of Carla standing a few feet away behind the desk, pretending not to watch us.

"Carla's pregnant," I say suddenly.

"I know," he replies blankly, "It's policy for the boss to be informed of that sort of thing."

"Ah. Well, I guess for me that was sort of a given."

The corners of his mouth quirk, and any discomfort just dissipates like that.

"So, you _really _told Jordan about me?" I ask in curiosity, "How did she take it?"

He pulls a face and I immediately get the gist, "She did not react well to having her booty call snatched away, I can tell you that."

After that, things have just relaxed a lot more. Perry and I are back on speaking times, and my friendship with Carla is stronger than ever. There's something comforting in knowing that I got upset over nothing.

But, then again, there's something disturbing in knowing that Perry and I broke up over nothing.

Which brings me to the most disturbing thing of all; are Perry and I back together again? He's become a much prominent part of my life again, after I realized over those two weeks how important he's become to me. But neither of us has brought up our short-lived relationship yet. I'm even beginning to wonder if that 'nothing' has destroyed everything.

As it will turn out, I won't have to wait very long. The strange thing about life is that the big things are often eclipsed by the little things, and in the madness surrounding our relationship, we will temporarily forget about the _very, very _big thing on its way.

However, another thing about life is that often, the big things make themselves known at the most unexpected times, as proved only seven days later.

* * *

One Week Later…

_Message From: Barbie Reid_

_Time sent: 1:32 AM_

_Perry, waters just broke. Am on way to hospital. Meet me! Elliot xx_

* * *

**I'm not sure why I ended it like that either. I thought it was cool, I suppose. Haha. Anyway, the important thing is that the most important thing in the story is about to come into play! Even if it's three weeks early. ;) It might seem like I've got to the birth kind of fast, but I don't have much else planned and I bet you guys are pretty bored of waiting for him or her, so I thought, "Well, it's about time!". Well, since the kid's being born next chapter, I'd really appreciate some opinions: names? Boy or girl? I know I've asked this before and have had some reviewers say they'd rather it be a girl, but let's call this the final vote. Lines officially open!**

**Also, you know what I'm going to ask. If you have any con-crit, especially about OOC-ness, I implore you to let me know in a review. Or if you just have nice things to say (haha), review anyway! :)**


	20. My Labour Woes

**Sorry it's been, like, agggggggeeeeeeeessssssssss. But I do still hope that I will have this story finished by…er…New Year's? Good thing I end school on Friday, ha-ha … except, GAAAAH, work! Dx But yes, I will try and finish this by New Year's. I hope I'll update again before Christmas, but if I do, MERRY CHRISTMAS! Though you cannot hear, I am singing "Silent Night". :D**

**P.S. In case you're wondering about the timing … well, the last episode of Season 7 aired for the first time in May (I consider its first airing to be when it actually happened) and, according to MY canon, Elliot became pregnant two months later, in July. Simple biology tells you that the baby would be due in early-mid April but, since it's three weeks early, the baby is coming in late March. I found a pregnancy calculator to figure it out. :) Do I get too invested in my stories? Yeeees…**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Labour Woes_

At about one o'clock in the morning on March the nineteenth, my waters break.

I had been feeling weird aches all day, but I assumed it was just normal pregnancy stuff. Or that pizza I had last week with JD and Turk which, I'm almost sure, had been sitting in the fridge for weeks.

Either way, when I feel the gush of liquid on the bed sheets, I immediately freak out.

"AAAAAAAAH! Oh-my-god-what-the-hell-was-that-frick-frick-frick-my-waters-just-broke-oh-my—!"

Then I just stop. Perhaps it's the realization that no-one is around to hear my meltdown, or maybe it's the excitement that worms its way into my head. I'm actually going to have a baby!

I'm having a baby.

Like, right now.

As I rush about the house grabbing everything I need (spare clothes, a book in case I get bored—wait, I'm in labour, not waiting for a frickin' train!!—throw book down, pick it up again because I bent the spine, bottled water and my camera), I barely have time to send a quick text to Perry before my first contraction hits.

Ow. Frick, that hurt. I wince in the knowledge that it can only get worse from now on before I hobble out the door towards my car.

Is it healthy for a woman in labour to drive _herself _to the hospital? I mean, sure, I have nobody else to drive me, unless I want to wait for a lift—but what if there's a delay and something goes wrong? Oh my God, I can't risk it! With renewed determination, I swing my bag into the back seat and get behind the wheel.

Halfway there, my next one hits and it feels like it's _doubled _in the pain. I swerve dangerously, one hand on the wheel and one hand pressed to my stomach, as I concentrate on my breathing.

Please don't let me hit a cat…please don't let me hit a cat…

* * *

"BARBIE!"

Oh, what have I done now?! I have just shuffled into the hospital lobby, the bag slung over my shoulder and back a little stooped—standing too straight just seems to _hurt_. I look around and see Perry striding towards me, looking concerned … and mad. Uh-oh.

"Puh-lease tell me you didn't drive here!" he demands, seizing the bag and holding onto my elbow.

I nod miserably, "I think I hit a cat."

"Dammit, you could've killed yourself!" he snarls and begins to yank me towards the desk, "Minions! Get Barbie a room, _now!_"

Clearly, Perry is in no mood to be messed with. One of the nurses leaps up to assist me, while another wheels a chair into the room. Perry just towers over us, arms crossed.

"Sorry I woke you up," I say, blinking up at him. Yes, I know it's unlikely, but a part of me wonders if it's not anger but sleep deprivation.

The look he shoots me tells me that no, it isn't. His face softens and he rests a hand on my arm, "You're having my kid, Blondie. You don't need to apologize."

I half-smile as he walks with us down the hall.

* * *

"Where _is_ everyone?" I pout, frowning at Perry as I snuggle under the bed covers, "I was there when Izzy AND Sam were born!"

"To be fair, they chose to be born at normal hours," he grumbles, glancing pointedly at the clock on the wall. _2 A.M. _I suppose he has a point. It even looks as though he were in bed when I texted him. He's wearing a black t-shirt and his normal grey sweat pants, with his curls messy and untamed. I sigh longingly. Would he be annoyed if I ran my hand through them once…?

"Good morning, Dr. Reid," Dr. Gerson bustles into the room, all smiles considering how damn late it is, "How are we feeling?"

"Peachy," Perry replies with a sarcastic smile before scowling, "Get on with it, sunshine."

Dr. Gerson clucks her tongue disapprovingly, "Tell that to the baby."

Then she grins at me as she takes her place at the end of the bed, "Ready, Elliot?"

"I guess," I mutter, obediently hoisting my legs into the stirrups. This, I have to say, is just embarrassing. I have always had problems with … you know … _down-there issues_ and to have Dr. Gerson poking around is sort of degrading.

Perry seems to sense my discomfort, as he leans down and takes my hand, much like he did at my first ultrasound. I look up to find him staring down at me, a small smile gracing his face. I feel my heart melt a little as I think … I think …

_I love him._

Ohhhh frick.

"Well, everything looks normal!" Dr. Gerson announces, "You're about four centimeters dilated, so there's some time to go yet." Then she moves to my side and begins sorting out an IV line, "Have you felt any contractions yet?"

"Actually—" I don't even get to finish before another one hits, "Aah!"

Perry lays a comforting hand on my stomach and flinches as he feels the muscles harden and tighten, "Yikes."

"Yikes indeed…" I grind out. A few seconds later, it fades and I flop back, staring at Dr. Gerson with imploring eyes.

"Will it get much worse?"

She sighs sympathetically, "Oh, dear … a lot worse."

"Thanks."

With a smile, she flounces from the room, "I'll come back to you in a little while!"

I glare after her, "Is it weird that I hate her?"

"Considering she's delivering your baby, yes," replies Perry, before leaning down to my rounded abdomen, "Now listen here, kiddo. We haven't met yet, but I have to admit I'm looking forward to it more than I look forward to meeting Hugh Jackman and punching him in the face. So do me and your mom a favour and come out soon, okay?"

All we get is a swift kick in reply.

"Oh and one more thing," Perry adds, "There's this surgeon—he's bald, he's black, he's a dumbass and I just made him Chief of Surgery. Unfortunately, he is going to be a prominent part of your life. Anyway, he asked me to request that you _nawt _be a boy, because it would be a threat to his masculinity if all of his friends had a boy before he did. So I implore you, please please _please _be a boy."

Then he leans back, satisfied. I arch an eyebrow.

"I am so looking forward to telling her this story."

"Him."

"Her."

"Him."

"Her."

This back-and-forth kills about forty-five minutes.

* * *

A few hours have passed and at some point, Perry fell asleep.

I feel a little resentful, actually. The few times I have nodded off, I seem to be aroused by a startling contraction shortly after. Though, admittedly, it is nice to watch him sleep. It makes him look almost … innocent.

Looking at him, it makes me wonder about what I thought earlier. _I love him?_ Do I love him? I mean, yes, we're having this baby together, and I've always found him sort of attractive, but our relationship only lasted a few months and now I have no idea where or what we are. At the minute, it looks as though we're two people having a baby.

I sigh and lean back, trying to adjust myself so that I'm comfortable. _Ha-ha, good one. _I cannot get comfortable during labour! The thought is preposterous!

Beside me, the monitors beep in time with the baby's heartbeat.

My hands unconsciously rest on my stomach. I wonder if Perry meant what he said about wanting a son. He _did _mention a few months earlier that if it was a boy, he'd want to name it after Ben. Actually, he seemed pretty excited about it. I roll my head back around to look at the sleeping Perry.

_He'll make a good father_.

Right now, my relationship isn't important. I just want this kid out and healthy and in my arms.

More than anything in the world.

* * *

"FRICK, FRICK, FRICK…!"

"Oh God, please stop saying frick…"

My hand tightens, "I'm the one in _PAIN HERE _so I'll say frick as many times as I want!"

Perry grimaces as I squeeze his hand further. However, by now he's wise enough not to speak again.

The clock reads _5 A.M._

"Dr. Gerson!" I wail as the obstetrician walks in, "Please tell me it's over!"

"Elli—"

"GET THIS FRICKIN' BABY OUT OF MEEE!"

Dr. Gerson raises her eyebrows and glances knowingly at Perry, who just nods.

"Okay, Elliot," she says calmly, gently pushing my knees apart, "Just relax, okay?"

I breathe heavily and force myself to relax. In, out, in…

My hair sticks to my sweaty forehead and Perry pushes it away, uncharacteristically soft, "You're doing okay."

He repeats this a few more times as Dr. Gerson examines me and then presses his lips to my forehead. This is as much as I can take; I grab his collar and pull him down to crush my lips against his in a searing kiss. In a moment of surprise, he does not react, but then returns the kiss with equal passion, cupping my face with both hands.

A moment later, I shove him away, "I. Am. Never. Having. Sex. With. You. Again."

Later, I would look back and be relieved that he laughs after this statement.

"Well," Dr. Gerson snaps us back to reality (painful, painful reality), "you're ten centimeters dilated. I'd say it's time to have this baby!"

"Oh thank God!" I exclaim dramatically.

Hilariously, ten minutes later, I find myself wishing I could go back to ten minutes _earlier_. Funny world, huh?

My legs are spread apart; I'm practically bent double from the effort of pushing; and about five people are peering at that _down-there _place I mentioned earlier. I'm vaguely aware of Perry on my left, propping me up and holding my hand tightly.

Of course, I don't really notice that. I don't notice the people at the foot of the bed. All I'm truly aware of is the mind-numbing, unbelievable _pain_.

I'm practically swimming in it. Jagged rifts of agony stab down my back, criss-cross my stomach, make it impossible to breathe. I try to concentrate and focus on a happy image: me and my child after this ordeal is over. But I can't. The picture keeps fading and slipping away, turning to black before I can grasp it and hold onto it.

The image of me attacking Perry with a plank of wood—one of those ones with the rusty nail through the top—manages to stick though.

Even struggling against the waves of pain, I chuckle breathlessly at this idea.

"Elliot?" it's Dr. Gerson, but she sounds far away, like a character on a television that has been turned right down, "Elliot, the baby's crowning. You're doing so well."

"Just keep pushing, Barbie," a much closer voice murmurs in my ear and, despite my already weary body, I comply. As my stomach muscles tighten again, I force all my energy downwards as hard as I can, until my vision wavers and I'm sure I'm going to lose consciousness.

But it isn't enough. The doctors reassure me, as I flop back and gasp for precious air, that one more will do it, and Perry's pulling me up again. I can feel another contraction coming on and shake my head.

"No more," I tell them stubbornly, "No frickin' more…"

"Come on, Elliot," hisses Perry, bracing his arm behind my back, "You can do this."

I groan and once again bear down. God, please let them be right. I can't handle any more—

A high-pitched scream shatters the tension and everything freezes.

No more pain. Just surprise and exhaustion and relief and _happiness_, because…

"Congratulations, Elliot," Dr. Gerson smiles as she lifts up the tiny baby for me to see, "It's a boy."

…_I have a son._

_Uh-oh, Turk's gonna be maaaaaad._

That is my last coherent though before I promptly pass out.

* * *

**I don't know about you, but I probably would fall asleep the moment after **_**I**_** gave birth. Doesn't it sound exhausting?!**

**I imagine a bunch of you are most likely thinking, "A BOY? I wanted a girl!" Trust me, I was **_**going **_**to make it a girl. But**** a few reviewers on the last chapter said they'd like a boy. Plus, I've noticed that in a lot of baby!fics I've read, the kid is usually a girl. So I thought a boy would be a little different; a nice change, you know? Now all we need is a name! Hint hint? :D**

**Please review!**


	21. My Adjustments

**Well, looks like I updated before Christmas. **_**–eyes widen—**_

**And, another milestone: 200 reviews! YES!! Thanks a lot, guys, it means a lot to me. :) I probably **_**definitely **_**won't update again until after the twenty-fifth but, to be honest, I think after this there will only be about two chapters left. Isn't **_**that **_**a scary thought?!**

**Finally, there will be a change of view point in this chapter, and for the rest of the story. It shouldn't be hard to figure out whose point of view it is, but I'm telling you just so you don't get halfway through and think, "Waaaait a minute…" **

**So, please enjoy!**

* * *

My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Adjustments_

Y'know, I like being right.

Actually, scratch that. I _love _being right. That's not to say that I'm wrong most of the time, because I'm never wrong, but that doesn't take any of the thrill or triumph I feel when I realize what I knew all along: I'm _right_.

Of course, right now, I only appreciate this feeling in the back of my mind. Looking back, I'll probably be disappointed that I didn't rub it in anyone's face, but when your on-off girlfriend has just passed out after giving birth to your illegitimate child, I guess you don't really take advantage of these moments.

"She's fine," Dr. Gerson tells me before I ask, "Just exhausted. Childbirth is a grueling task and this is not all that uncommon."

Well, _I _could have told you that.

Then a nurse abruptly shoves this bundle of blankets at me.

"Here's your son, Dr. Cox!" she trills. My skin crawls just listening to her. But, nevertheless, I do my best to ignore her and scoop the baby out of her arms. It takes a while, but I eventually pull away enough of the covers to actually see my kid's face.

Well, I … to be honest, I haven't been speechless in a really, really, really, _really _long time. There's nothing particularly special about the lad—his face is red and scrunched up, like all newborns, though he has admittedly stopped crying now. His eyes, now blinking as if he were surprised, are big and blue like Barbie's. The strands of hair on his head are curled and blonde. He's cute, yeah, but I bet I've seen cuter.

No, the weird thing is how much he looks like, well, me. He has my nose, Barbie's mouth, and my eyes. He obviously got the curly hair from me. And now he's giving me a "What the hell?" look not unlike ones I have been known to throw at nervous and incompetent interns.

The really amazing thing about holding him for the first time is just the realization that he's real, and he's _mine._

Oh, and he's a boy. There's that triumphant feeling! I've spent God knows how long so sure that I would have a son (mostly because Barbie was certain it would be a girl) and dammit, I was right!

This is gonna stick in Gandhi's craw.

Oh, happy days …

* * *

Childbirth really must suck. So far, Barbie has surrendered the first ninety minutes of her son's life to sleep.

He had to be taken away, of course. I was pretty reluctant to let him go, to be honest, but the nurse (practically shaking in her scrubs) was very careful to tell me that he needed to be weighed, measured, cleaned up and loaded into a new jumpsuit before being restored right back to me.

It's about six-thirty now. I know because the night nurses are dragging their weary feet out into the parking lot. Sara, the nurse who assisted in the baby's birth, bid me a very shaky and terrified goodbye. I would have scared her more, but didn't have the heart. It had been a long night for us all.

The baby—dammit, he needs a name—for the sake of argument … Ben. Ben is asleep in his little bassinet, all wrapped up like a fajita and a powder blue cap donned on his head. It's easy to forget, after having a child, that that kid has had the worst time of everyone. It's one thing to be in agonizing pain, but another to be forcibly and messily ejected from the only home you know. They wind up in an entirely new world, full of new sights and experiences … and they spend the next few months of their lives asleep.

I chuckle to myself and then reach in and very gently stroke his cheek. His brow furrows for a moment and he turns his head toward my touch. Then, his face smoothes out and he's asleep again.

Everything seems normal. Dr. Gerson says he's a perfectly healthy baby—in fact, at five pounds and six ounces, he's a itty-bit lightweight, but that's to be expected since he arrived three weeks early. He must take after Mommy in that respect.

It's like she heard me; the minute this thought was in my head, Elliot sighed softly and her eyes fluttered open. When she noticed me—most likely frowning at her—she smiled warmly, "Hi…what time is it?"

"Six thirty," I reply quietly. I wonder if she remembers…?

Suddenly, Elliot groaned and pressed a hand to her stomach, "Oww…ah…w-what?"

Then she squeaks and sits up, pushing aside whatever pain she must be in, and looks at the foot of the bed, where the crib is. Predictably, the first thing she says is, "Awww…"

I roll my eyes.

She shuffles down the bed, eyes locked firmly on our son, and croons at me, "God, was I really asleep?"

"You were tired," I reply nonchalantly, "Nobody could _blame_ you."

Elliot sits cross-legged at the end of her bed and peers into the bassinet, "He's _beautiful!_"

Crap. Now she's starting to look guilty. She reaches into the crib and gets her hands under the baby's body.

I automatically reach out as well, "Be—watch—"

"I know how to hold my baby!" she exclaims and demonstrates by lifting him out perfectly and cradling him against her chest. Then she falters and looks at me, "I _am _holding him right, right?"

I arch an eyebrow. Ben hasn't even woken up from the jostling. In fact, he looks even more comfortable in Elliot's arms, and nestles against her. And she thinks she did something wrong? God, she's an insecure idiot sometimes?

Why the hell am I in love with her?

"This is so weird," she sighs, adjusting Ben a little, "I mean, one minute we're just regular Joes, you know, and the next … we're parents!"

"Don't remind me," I mutter jokingly and pull my chair closer to the bed. Elliot grins at me before looking back down at the baby, captivated. I don't think she's ever looked more gorgeous—not even when she was pregnant and her boobs were _huge_. Although it seems she hasn't lost much in that area. That reminds me—

As if on cue, Ben's eyes pop open and he begins whimpering. Elliot goes from Happy Mom to Freaked Out Mess immediately.

"Oh God, oh God, what do I do? What the frick do I do?"

"Calm down," I snap, "He's probably hungry."

"_Hungry?!_" she exclaims, her eyes widening, "W-w-well, shouldn't you call a frickin' nurse?!"

My teeth grit together instinctively. Must. Not. Shout at…

"Do you _need _one?"

Ben's whines get louder and Elliot's eyes get wider, "I don't know what I'm doing!!"

Then, the inevitable occurs: Barbie starts to cry. Damn, damn, damn you, hormones!

I rub my eyes and mentally begins to count. _One…two…three…_

"Okay," I sign upon reaching ten—stupid mechanism but, hey, sometimes it works!—"Barbie, listen to me. Sit back and get comfortable."

Sniffling, Elliot shuffles back until her back is resting against the wall. I stand and walk alongside her before perching on the edge of the bed.

"Good," I continue. I'm totally bullshitting here—how the hell should _I_ know what to do? Unfortunately, she's taking comfort in the fact that I seem to know what to do, so I just wing it.

Miraculously, it works! Elliot gets her gown open and Ben seems to do the rest. He's nursing quite happily and I'm frankly relieved that things didn't reach emergency-level.

"Was that so hard?" I ask. Barbie, wincing, glares at me.

"No, this is a blast," she growls. I roll my eyes again and focus instead on the boy.

"Ben seems to think so," I point out and she nods.

"Well, I guess—wait. _Ben?_"

Oh shit. I cringe, noting that Elliot looks a little annoyed. Oh _shit_.

"Um, yeah, well…" okay, let's get this clearly. Normally, I would not stammer around someone as completely _un_-intimidating as Elliot Reid. I would not. But from personal experience, I know that hormonal women are not people you want to piss off. Who knows what Barbie is capable of when she finds out you inadvertently named her son without her permission?"

"Give me a break!" I cry, "I couldn't just call him the baby, could I? He's a _person _now and, since Benjamin is the only name we really talked about, I figured it would tide him over until we got a real name picked out!"

Elliot … doesn't appear to be listening to me. Instead, she's looking down at the baby thoughtfully.

"Er, Barbie."

She taps his nose. No reply.

"Earth to _Elliot?_"

Elliot looks up and this time, she smiles, "It sort of suits him."

"What?"

She shrugs, "Benjamin. I mean, I remember thinking about how you wanted him to be called Ben if he was a boy—it was when I was in labor but I guess the name sort of stuck."

I exhale in relief—_nawt _dying today.

"Benjamin … Ben … " she muses before grinning widely, "Benji!"

"_No_."

She pouts but doesn't argue. She swaps the baby to the other breast without my reminding her and then adds, "But I kind of thought we could name him after my dad. You know, since he's been so great and all…"

Oh, fantastic. Benjamin Simon. BS. That about describes her father.

Apparently my feelings are visible on my face because Elliot groans, "Okay, fine. I just thought that naming him after someone who means a lot to _both _of us would be nice…"

"How does your father mean a lot to me?"

She ignores me, "Well, we _could _name him Robert, since you and Kelso are so tight…"

That practically makes me _want _to call him BS.

* * *

Luckily, we didn't have to subject Ben to our pointless bickering for long. As is policy, a nurse came in after the shift change to take him away and check his vitals. I don't know who it was, but I have no doubt that it won't be long before word reaches Carla, who we have had the audacity _not _to call. We haven't called anyone yet—I was too busy reeling in the wake of my fatherhood and Elliot was asleep. Now, of course, we're arguing about what to name the baby.

Eventually, we reach an agreement: we'll throw names back and forth and choose one that we can both agree on. Sounds simple, right? Well, awful lot of boys names out there and, when you chuck in two people with completely different tastes, things get very complicated.

"Duncan."

"Colin."

"Alan."

"John."

"You want to name him after JD?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Newbie's name is _Joanna_."

"Kyle."

"Henry."

"Edward."

"No."

"Jacob?"

"If I ever see another copy of _Twilight_ in my apartment again, I'm gonna burn it!"

"Asshole."

"James."

Finally, we gave up and picked a simple name that we both agreed on.

Perhaps there are people out there who like long, complicated names or naming their kids after fruit or cars, but Benjamin Jack Cox was good enough for Elliot and me.

* * *

At noon, Elliot persuaded me to go to the cafeteria for some "proper" food. The baby was in the nursery and she wanted to sleep, so I figured I had nothing else to do than slowly poison myself with whatever crap they were serving.

However, I have forgotten that outside my personal bubble, filled with new children and a lot of Barbie, it is a regular work day at the hospital. As I walk—nay, _stagger_—into the lunchroom, I discover none other than Carla, Gandhi and Carol sitting at a table. I also get a whiff of "Wednesday Surprise" which reminds me of why I didn't go to eat earlier. Some would argue that it was concern for Elliot and my six-hour-old son, but I would hastily disagree and remind them of what demons lurk in the so-called cafeteria and—

"Dr. Cox!"

Betsy's voice breaks me from my thoughts. Dammit, do I daydream as much as her?

"The nurses said you were off today," Carla says in confusion and Gandhi scoffs, "No doctor would turn up looking _that _crap to work, baby!"

I narrow my eyes to slits. On a normal day, I would release some sarcastic spiel about how I just literally lived for this hospital and somehow wind up insulting Newbie, who would give me that "why, when I hold you so dear?" look. However, today is not normal and I am too tired to say anything other than a short, "Fuck you."

"What's wrong?" Carla asks kindly as I pull up a chair and drop my head on my arms.

"You okay, buddy?" Carol speaks for the first time and I growl.

"No, Newbie. _No_ buddy. No," I tell him and, as I already knew, he looks affronted. Then I turn to Carla, "Nothing's wrong. In fact, arguably, this is the best day of my life. Unfortunately, the best day of my life decided to start unnaturally early, so I am enjoying it on no sleep and no food."

I glance up to stare at Newbie's meal, which looks an awful lot like congealed brown vomit with a side of sauce. Maybe running on no food isn't too bad an idea. I choose just to steal Gandhi's water bottle and chug generously.

"_Hey!_"

"Turk," hisses Carla warningly, and looks back to me, "What happened?"

I wipe my mouth and slide the bottle back to Gandhi, "Barbie had the baby last night."

Carla and Newbie's jaws drop. Gandhi's too busy rubbing at the mouth of his bottle vigorously to react.

"_GANDHI_. I don't have cooties!"

"W-what?!" Carla squeaks, "Elliot had the—why didn't you call me?!"

I frown, "We got here at two a.m. Would you have wanted to come?"

She shakes her head in disbelief. Newbie takes his turn to dive in, "Is she okay? Where is she? How did it—?"

"Fiona," I interrupt, "I know how desperate you are to experience the joy of giving birth for yourself, but try not to bombard me too much. My brain has yet to catch up with the rest of me," when he looks ready to burst, I reckon it would be smarter just to answer his stupid questions, "She's fine; she's asleep. She's upstairs, on the stupid maternity ward. It went fine."

Carla half-rises as though intending to run up to see her, but then settles back down, "Why didn't you call _after _she gave birth?!"

"Your shift was gonna start in half-an-hour anyway!" I exclaim. My head is beginning to throb, which isn't a good sign.

"Boy or girl?" Gandhi throws in his two-cents. This time, I can't help but smile.

"A boy," I reply, to Carla's obvious joy, "Ben."

"You named him Ben!" Carla cries, and looks as though she were welling up, "_Oh_, congratulations!"

She throws her arms around me and I laugh. Maybe it's just her own pregnancy hormones; maybe it's genuine happiness.

"Yeah, congratulations," Turk adds, smiling. Newbie looks like he's fanning himself.

"I just can't believe we're all growing up so fast!" he squeaks—his voice actually cracks a few times.

"Easy, Newbie," I say. He takes a few deep breaths.

"So how you holding up so far?" Gandhi asks. I shrug and smile.

"Actually, I think I'm adjusting pretty well."

A comfortable silence falls over us, before Gandhi breaks it by pointing his fork at Carla.

"Our baby better be a boy, right, baby?"

Carla's eyes narrow. Newbie cringes. I can sense a fight is imminent—and so might a threat to Gandhi's manliness—and as much as I want to do nothing, sit back and watch, I decide to relax the situation.

"Gandhi," I growl, "Grow some stones. Are you coming to see the baby or not?"

* * *

**Sorry about the end. It's kind of late and I just wanted to get it over with. That's why it's so lame.**

**As for the name—well, I got a few suggestions about it. Some agreed that Benjamin was a good idea, and since I'd already decided to go with it, I mostly just thought about the second name. I tried to include everyone's suggestions in the name-fight, but figured that Jack was a nice, simple name, a name that's pretty IC to Perry, and a sort of homage to canon. **_**–hugs canon—**_**I'm totally messing with you, but I still love you.**

**And the "Twilight" thing…well, I can picture Elliot being a Twi-hard. I, for one, am not a fan. :P And no-one actually suggested Edward or Jacob (certainly not because they're characters in "Twilight"); I just thought it would be sort of a random thing to throw in there. Perhaps I just wanted to advertise my Anti-"Twilight" campaign ... haha, it doesn't matter!**

**I seriously hope everything was in-character! I was a little worried about writing from Perry's POV, but hopefully he came across okay. As I said, there are about two chapters left, so the end is NIGH! xD There wasn't much romance in this chapter but I swear it will be resolved next!**

**Well, I hope you enjoyed and please review. Oh, and **_**Scrubs **_**is not mine.**


	22. My Lapse In Judgment

**Relax, it's still me; I just changed my name again. :D I'm really sorry that I haven't updated before, guys. I hope you had a wonderful Christmas, New Year's and that 2010 has so far been kind to you. Mine was great; though I got **_**RENT **_**for Christmas and developed what my sister calls an "unhealthy obsession"…but I call it "undying love". Anyway, that is my excuse for not updating earlier, haha.**

**In slightly more somber news, I feel it is right to mention that this is the final chapter. Don't look at me that way; I know I said two more chapters but I figured out a way to jam the solution to Perry and Elliot's love troubles and the fluffy epilogue in the same chapter. So, I guess this is the end. For a slightly more sentimental author's note, go to the end. I'll write it there :)**

**For now, enjoy!**

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My Lapse In Judgment  
_My Lapse In Judgment  
_(please don't comment on my lack of originality)

In life, there are always going to be moments that you wish you could change; moments where you lose your mind for a moment, where you do something out of character or downright stupid. If you're lucky, these moments might not matter. If you're _really _lucky, they'll be the best damn things to ever happen to you. But if you're neither…well, those moments could haunt you forever.

But I suppose, at the end of the day, how you deal with the consequences is what affects the rest of your life. It determines what kind of person you are; whether you're a coward or a fighter.

So, what do my momentary lapses of judgment say about me?

Of course, I'm not the type of man to lose my way very often. I'm not. I'll admit, my constant dealings with my ex-wife were destructive, for both of us, and if I could, I would take it back and fix it. Hell, in different circumstances, perhaps Jordan and I could have been really happy together. But in this case, separate lives were the only solutions.

I'll admit that I have made some errors with a few patients—bad calls, mostly, but dammit, at least I _tried_. In the end, that's all you can do: _try _and save them and hopefully succeed.

And then there was my gigantic, life-changing, irresponsible lapse in judgment: getting drunk and knocking up the most annoying female doctor I have ever met, save for Newbie. I swear, if anything almost made me swear off alcohol, it was discovering Barbie was pregnant. But I didn't, mind you. I didn't give up drinking but I sure as hell didn't run away either. I was an idiot and it was my consequence to deal with.

Well, ours, technically. It takes two to tango, right?

I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had run away, or Barbie had got rid of the baby, or even if Mrs. Hillsdale hadn't died and we never ended up at that bar almost a year ago. I know one thing for sure: I wouldn't be in my apartment, with Barbie curled up on one side and our eight-week-old son sleeping soundly in the next room.

I stretch a little and stifle a yawn. It's almost three-thirty AM and I haven't slept all night. It's probably the knowledge that the moment I do, Benji will probably be wide awake and screaming the next. Alternatively, it could be because this is the first time Barbie has fallen asleep _in my bed_ since…well, we dated.

But she practically lives here as it is. All of Benji's things are here and usually he keeps us up long enough that she never has the energy to go home. Most of the time, she crashes on the couch but this…this is different. This is the longest Benji has slept through the night.

This sucks, because now I can't sleep.

Next to me, Barbie stirs and rolls over to face me. I groan and clench my eyes shut. Maybe if I wish hard enough, it'll be tomorrow morning and I'll magically not be exhausted. Sigh…

"Perry?" a thick voice mumbles and my eyes fly open. Barbie is leaning up on one shoulder and blinking blearily at me. Her hair is tousled, her eyes are red and, well, she looks beautiful. _Damn_.

"Is he still asleep?" she asks, a degree of disbelief in her voice. I'm too tired to make any witty comeback.

"Yep."

"Um, have _you _slept?"

"Nope."

She giggles and snuggles up to me, as though we're a real couple as opposed to two really messed up people who…you know what? I'll finish that sentence tomorrow.

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At quarter to five in the morning, Benji starts wailing. Damn that child…

Elliot staggers off of the bed and out the door while I roll up stubbornly in the covers. There's no way that I'm getting up now, not when I'm warm and could still get another fifteen minutes' snooze.

"Scoot," Barbie's voice cracks through my sleep-hazed mind and I obediently wriggle over as she sits on the bed and crosses her legs. Benji is in her arms, all cosy in his white jumpsuit and mouth open like a baby bird's in anticipation of feeding. Though I close my eyes, I can still hear the scuffle as Barbie opens her pajama shirt.

After a few moments, during which Ben is blissfully quiet, Barbie opens her damned mouth, "Isn't he precious?"

"I'm not getting any sleep, am I?"

"You know, I think he's beginning to look a little more like you," she continues, completely ignoring me, "Oh, you do remember that Paige is coming out next week to see the baby, right?"

"How could I forget?" I grumble, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. Ever since Ben's birth, a metaphorical clown car of family and friends have been breezing in and out cooing over Ben and passing him around like a trophy. Elliot loves it, of course; she's more than happy to entertain people as long as they praise her and her gorgeous son. Meanwhile, I'm usually in the kitchen trying to find the scotch Elliot so cleverly hid and wondering what everyday appliances could make useful emergency weapons in case another "uncle" comes over and slaps me on the back in congratulations again.

"Relax. It'll go fine," she says casually and looks down as Ben gurgles, "Oh, are you done, sweetie?"

That's it. "Barbie, why are you here?"

"What do you mean?"

She looks confused. Shit, I wish I didn't love that face.

"You have a house of your own—one which, I gather, you haven't spent time even near in eons. Instead you're here, every day and every _night_. To be honest, it feels as though I have a wife again, only without the consolation of sex whenever she feels like it. What's going on?"

It's only as I pose my question that I realize the tips of Barbie's ears are red. Naturally, my eyebrows shoot up, "Uh, Barbie…?"

"Do you want sex every night?" she asks in a squeak, "Cos, you know, we could. Well, not _every _night because I don't know about you but it feels like I'm _always _tired nowadays, and if we _did _start then that sort of would compromise our relationship and—"

"What relationship?" I demand, effectively breaking her off, "All I know is that we have a kid and you slept in my bed last night."

Elliot blinks at me, as if genuinely surprised, "I, uhm…" then she looks down at Benji, who has by now dozed off. Then, she lifts her eyes to mine, a steely look to them that I have rarely seen, "What do you _want _it to be?"

It takes all of my willpower not to drop my jaw. For one thing, it actually sounds as though we are heading into Relationship Territory, in which we actually discuss our likelihood of a future together—something neither of us are that good at. For another, it doesn't help that Elliot's voice becomes low and husky; almost suggestive.

Maybe it's that seductive quality, or my own messed-up yet powerful feelings for her. Maybe it's the fact that I haven't had a full night's sleep in two months. Heck, maybe it's a combination of all three. Whatever it is, something makes me lean forward and brush my lips against hers.

Of course, it isn't that simple. The moment our mouths make contact, she reaches up with one arm and grips the back of my head, pulling me closer until our teeth clash. Her lips part and I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, leaning towards her and groaning. My hand moves to slip over her waist and bring her towards me but instead my fingers curl around Ben's face of their own accord.

I break away from Elliot, who whines at the loss of contact and look down at my son. He's sleeping peacefully now, his head turned to my touch and his breath soft against my fingers. Despite whatever situation I just launched myself into, I smile.

"Told you he was precious," a breathless voice says. Elliot grins at me, her lips red and wet and her eyes a little wide. She looks so thoroughly kissed that I want to kiss her again.

"Elliot," I say suddenly and her eyes widen a little more. I called her Elliot, so she knows it's serious. Unfortunately, it's so impromptu that I actually have no idea what I'm going to say that's so fucking serious.

"Yeah?" she murmurs, her eyes flitting across my face. My hand slips from Benji to her trouser-covered leg and I rub it absently.

_I love you_.

The words are so unexpected as they shove their way to the front of my mind that I snatch my hand away from her. _I love you_. Why the hell would I want to say that? The last person I said that to—excluding my son—was Jordan and she cared so little she might as well have laughed in my fucking face. Why would I want to put myself through that humiliation again?

But dammit, I _do _love Elliot. I love her and Ben and this whole little family we somehow manage to make up. I even love the fact that she sometimes irritates me until I want to throw myself off the roof.

"Elliot…" I repeat, swallowing nervously, "I…I don't think you're as annoying as you used to be."

Her face falls. Shit.

"I'm not?" she says in confusion. I shake my head.

"N…no. I think I tolerate you a hell of a lot more than I once did," I reply and then add (God forbid, _shyly_), "I can't stop thinking about putting up with you even more."

There is a flicker of surprise in her eyes before understanding abruptly dawns on her face. Then I realize that I didn't have to say _it _to make her know how I feel. Somehow, she understands anyway.

"I love you too," she smiles and presses her lips to mine again. I cup her face with both hands and take a moment to enjoy the feel of triumph.

She loves me back. And maybe this could be the start of my first _healthy _relationship.

But, of course, with Elliot and me, that kiss on the bed isn't the _start_. The _start _is resting in the crook of Elliot's arm and feeling a little neglected. Promptly, Elliot breaks away as Benji starts screaming.

"Oh, no, honey," she croons and then stares at me as she clambers off the bed, "I'll just calm him down a little. Stay right there; we're not finished yet!"

Then she maneuvers Benji onto her shoulder and walks out the room, whispering sweet nothings to him to cease his cries. I'm aware that we both probably look and feel like crap, that the house is a mess after weeks of caring and adapting to a newborn and that the hospital is still calling for our attention in the distance. Despite all the craziness, I lean back, shut my eyes and smile.

Lapse in judgment? Maybe so.

Best lapse in judgment _ever_.

_END._

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**Let it never be forgotten that I am the Queen of Cheesy Endings.**

**But all of our problems were resolved, yes?**

**Well, it's been one hell of a, what, ten months? Let's just say year. It's been a crazy ride, with a lot of slowness from me and amazing patience from all of you and you have no idea how much I appreciate and admire you for that. I really hope that I managed to meet your expectations and keep everything to your liking, but you know that if I got any details or characterizations wrong, I would really like to know. Con-crit is the only way to know how to improve, right?**

**Goodness, I'm getting teary-eyed! As I said, you've been amazing readers and I hope you drop me a final review to let me know what you thought. Thank you so much, guys!**

_**BeforeTheSongDies xx**_


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